




















Class “P Z. 7 
Rook . A 4-7. % 
Copyright ft°_L 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 







MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 



THE 

MARJORY-JOE SERIES 

BY 

ALICE E. ALLEN 

♦tr 

Each, library 12mo, illustrated, $1.50 

rH? 

Joe, the Circus Boy—Rosemary 

The Martie Twins, Continuing the Adven¬ 
tures of Joe , the Circus Boy 
Marjory, the Circus Girl 
Marjory at the Willows 
Marjory’s House Party 
Marjory’s Discovery 

♦ 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (Inc.) 
53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass. 



































































































































u 


SHE 


HELD A SMALL PAPER PACKAGE HIGH OVER HER 

head.” (See page 2/2.) 

















B 


tIbe /Bbarjor^gS-oe Series 

MARJORY'S 

DISCOVERY 

HOW THE ROSEMARY TWINS 
, GUARDED THE PEARL NECKLACES 


I 

1 


BY 

ALICE E. ALLEN 

Author of 

“Marjory, the Circua Girl,“ “Marjory's House Party,' 
“Joe, the Circua Boy — Rosemary.” “The 
Martie Twins,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
ELIZABETH R. WITHINGTON 





L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 

BOSTON * MDCCCCXXIII 



















Copyright, 1923, by 
L. C. Page & Company 
(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 


Made in U. S. A. 


First Impression, July, 1923 


PRINTED BY C. H. SIMONDS COMPANY 
BOSTON, MASS., U. S. A. 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Wreck .i 

II. The Rescue Party.19 

III. An Aunt, a Nurse, and a Dog . 34 

IV. Doctor’s Orders.51 

V. “Upstairs, Downstairs” ... 72 

VI. Pink Gingham and Surgeon’s Plas¬ 
ter .89 

VII. Jinny.101 

VIII. Letters from Marjory . . . .115 

IX. The Bungalow That Wasn’t a 

Bungalow.133 

X. The Bungayloafers.146 

XI. Naming the Bungalow . . . 169 

XII. Jinny’s Shower.186 

XIII. The M.S.206 

XIV. Balsam Pillows.221 

XV. Mary Tries to Be Two . . . 237 

XVI. Pearls—Lost and Found . . . 255 

XVII. Pearls—Found and Lost . . . 276 

XVIII. A Red Pigtail.290 

XIX. A Ball of Blue Wool .... 309 

XX. Happy Endings and Beginnings . 329 




















' 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“ She held a small paper package high over her 

head ” (See page 272 ) . Frontispiece 


“All four little Pennies came a step nearer to 

get a better look at Mary ” .... 27 

“ She heard a faint stir in the branches over her 

head ”.148 


“Joe took the hint, and, with Aunt Rose, led off 

in a dance ”.183 

“ At this very minute . . . Jinny’s shower be¬ 
gan ”.202 t 


“ She sat down on one of the twin beds and put 
an arm around Rose and an arm around 
Mary ”. 


i*- 


327 







flfoat'joiYs £H8covet\> 


CHAPTER I 


THE WRECK 


T HAT makes you stare at me 
%/^/ so, Mary?” Rose Dawson 

▼ ▼ bounced about uncomforta¬ 

bly in her red plush chair and stared back 
at her Twin across the aisle of the car. 

Mary’s round, blue eyes remained fixed 
upon her Twin. Each instant they seemed 
to grow rounder and bluer. 

“I can’t help it, Rose,” she said, slowly. 

“Why?” cried Rose, impatiently. 

“I’m trying to make out why people can’t 
tell us apart,” explained Mary. “I can’t 
believe I always look like you.” 

1 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“But why can’t you believe it, Mary?” 

“Because so many times I don’t feel the 
same inside,” said Mary, soberly. 

“Well, it doesn’t show up outside,” said 
Rose. 

“When we got on the train,” went on 
Mary, “I heard some one say, ‘Just see 
those Twins—don’t they look ex-act-ly 
alike?’ And we weren’t feeling a bit alike, 
Rosie.” 

“Why weren’t we?” asked Rose. 

“I was so glad Aunt Rose had suddenly 
decided to send us on home ahead of her 
to surprise father—” 

“I’m just as glad as you are about seeing 
father,” interrupted Rose, eagerly. “But 
I didn’t want to go home on the train. I 
wanted to just sweep through Sugar River 
village, and arrive home in Aunt Rose’s 
car, Mary. Besides, I sort of wanted to 


2 






THE WRECK 

make those visits in the city with Aunt 
Rose.” 

“I don’t like making visits like that,” 
said Mary, decidedly. “And there you 
are, Rose. If we don’t feel alike, why do 
we go on looking alike?” 

“People aren’t looking at our feelings, 
Mary,” said Rose. “They look at our eyes 
and noses and mouths and hair. You know, 
yourself, that our outsides are ex-act-ly 
alike, as that woman said. Why, if you 
sat back of us, you couldn’t tell which of us 
was which, could you?” 

“It seems as if I could,” said Mary, 
thoughtfully. “Where your hair is coming 
out over the bow a little, it fluffs more than 
mine does.” 

“Nonsense, Mary,” cried Rose, exasper¬ 
ated. “You do get such queer notions. If 
a strand of your hair was braided with a 
3 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


strand of mine, you couldn’t tell which was 
yours, yourself.” 

“I could,” said Mary, “if you braided it, 
Rose.” A slow dimple came into one of 
her cheeks. Slow twinkles brightened both 
eyes. “You’d pull it so.” 

Rose laughed softly. Two dimples came 
—one for each cheek. A whole crowd of 
twinkles danced into her eyes. 

“There,” cried Mary, delightedly, lean¬ 
ing forward. “I never twinkle and sparkle 
the way you do.” 

“You’re twinkling this minute, Mary 
Contrary,” cried Rose. “Only you can’t 
see yourself doing it. I wonder,” she 
added, “if Billy Brown can tell us apart 
now. Didn’t we have fun that year we 
went to school as Rosemary Dawson? You 
a week and I a week, and nobody knowing 
there were two of us.” 


4 




THE WRECK 

Mary nodded her blonde head with its 
black bow which was so exactly like her 
Twin’s blonde head with its black bow. 
Then she reached for her knitting. Under 
Aunt Rose’s directions, she was making the 
first of blue, slip-on, twin sweaters. Rose 
leaned across the aisle. 

“Do see that girl, Mary,” she whispered. 
“The one just getting up—in the tan coat. 
Isn’t she pretty?” 

Mary peered around the fat woman who 
sat ahead of her to get a better view of the 
pretty girl. Her chair was some distance 
down the aisle on Rose’s side. She was 
speaking to a maid who sat across from her. 
The maid picked up a pretty traveling bag 
and an umbrella. Then they both went 
slowly down the aisle toward the dining car 
which was just ahead. 

“Isn’t she pretty?” said Rose again. 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Her back is,” laughed Mary. “Oh 
dear, Rose, there goes my ball.” 

Away went the ball of dull-blue wool, 
across the aisle, under some one’s chair, on 
under some one else’s, bobbing out into the 
aisle again, and then disappearing entirely. 
Rose and Mary both bobbed along after 
it, the fat woman and others near by good- 
naturedly trying to help in the chase. It 
was Rose who found it, not far from the 
pretty girl’s empty chair. It lay, quietly 
enough now, against the side of the coach. 
Beside it lay a quaint bead bag. Rose 
handed the ball to Mary and picked up the 
bag. 

It was a most delightful bag made en¬ 
tirely of the tiniest beads in soft warm 
colors. A big blue lily nodded at a big red 
rose, and across the bottom, against a back¬ 
ground of dull red, a pretty church of blue 
6 






THE WRECK 

lifted a black steeple between two green 
trees. 

Mary bent over Rose’s shoulder to ad¬ 
mire the fascinating bag. 

“It’s slipped from some one’s lap,” said 
Rose. She scanned the people about her, 
wondering who had lost the pretty thing. 

“What a lovely goldy top,” said Mary. 
“And there are some initials on it, aren’t 
there? It’s so dark down here, I can’t 
make them out. And this car sways so. 
Why—Rose, what—is the matter?” 

For Rose, trying to stand erect, was 
clutching at the side of a chair. And all 
up and down the long coach, people were 
throwing down books, magazines, papers, 
lunch boxes, whatever they had in their 
hands, to gaze in startled fashion at each 
other, and out of the nearest window. The 
next instant, there came a sudden awful 
7 







MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


crashing of brakes, a roar of steam escap¬ 
ing somewhere, and a dizzying rocking 
from side to side. 

A long time afterward, Rose became con¬ 
scious of several things, one after another. 
There was a pain in her head, and another 
in her back. For a long time it seemed 
that the two pains were twins and couldn’t 
be told apart. Then there was a trouble¬ 
some streak of something bright and hot 
that kept trying to get in her eyes, if she 
opened them even the least bit. She could 
hear something that sounded sweet and cool 
and comforting like the trickle of water. 
But with it was another sound that wasn’t 
comforting—like some one crying. Was 
she crying? She opened her eyes. The 
troublesome bright hot something seemed 
to be sunshine. Where was she? And 
who was she anyway? 

8 






THE WRECK 

“Am I Mary—or Rose?” she said, or 
thought she said, after a long, dazed min¬ 
ute. 

Something came quickly between her and 
the sunshine. At first from clouds of un¬ 
consciousness and pain, she thought she was 
looking into her own face, wet with tears, 
and whiter than she had ever seen it, except 
for a jagged red streak across its forehead. 
She shut her eyes. Later, something wet 
and cool touched her hot forehead. She 
opened her eyes again. 

“Rose,” said a voice. It sounded exactly 
like her own, only it was weak and trem¬ 
bling. “Are you dead?” 

“I don’t know,” said Rose. Or she 
thought she said it. 

“Can’t you say just a word to me, Rosie?” 
said the voice again. There was a sob and 
tears splashed on her face. 

9 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Are you Rose?” Rose thought she said. 
But all she really said was, “Rose?” 

“You’re Rose,” said the anxious, little 
voice. “I’m Mary.” 

“You look like Rose,” said Rose. This 
time she really said what she thought she 
did. 

“Why, of course,” said the voice. “Mary 
always looks like Rose, you know. Do you 
feel better, Rosie? Do please, if you can. 
It’s going to be dark soon—and we’re all 
alone here.” 

“Am I Rose—really?” asked Rose. “I 
—don’t feel—like Rose.” 

“You’re Rose,” said Mary gently. “And 
I’m Mary. Don’t you remember?” 

“The Rosemary Twins?” said Rose, try¬ 
ing to smile. 

“Could you sit up, Rosie,” asked Mary, 
anxiously, “if I helped?” 

10 






THE WRECK 

With Mary’s help, Rose sat up leaning 
against a tree. 

“Where are we?” she asked, staring 
about. 

“Somewhere under a hill,” said Mary. 

This meant nothing to Rose, except 

There was an old woman lived under a hill, 

And if she’s not dead, she lives there still. 

She started to say this, but Mary looked 
so frightened, she stopped. 

“How did we get—under a hill?” she 
said, after shutting her eyes tight and try¬ 
ing to get her tangled-up thoughts into 
shape. “Is this where we started 
for?” 

“We started for home,” said Mary. 
“Aunt Rose put us on the train—don’t you 
remember, Rosie? Then, there was an 
awful wreck.” Mary shuddered. 

11 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Suddenly it all came back to Rose. She 
sat up straight and clutched Mary. 

“The train rocked,” she cried, “and I 
clutched for you. And you weren't there 
—and something hit my head—and I ran. 
Then I fell down and got up and ran and 
ran and fell down again, Mary.” 

Mary nodded. 

“I crawled out of a window,” she said, 
“all by myself. It took a long time. Then 
I went up and down looking for you. But 
you weren't anywhere. And every one was 
so busy looking for some one, no one paid 
any attention to me. And some people 
were hurt, Rose. It was dreadful. By 
and by, I found a little path that went away 
by itself. I followed it down into this gulf. 
And right here, in these pine needles and 
moss, I found you.” 

Every bit of Mary’s pretty color was 
12 






THE WRECK 

gone. Her eyes were frightened and black 
—not blue at all—under the ugly cut in 
her forehead. There was a great smudge 
of soot on her nose which added to her 
strange appearance. 

“Never mind,” said Rose. “We’re both 
here now—and we aren’t hurt.” 

“Can you get up, Rose?” asked Mary, 
anxiously. 

Taking hold of the friendly little tree, 
Rose slowly pulled herself up. She was 
giddy at first and had to lean against its 
sturdy trunk. But things soon straightened 
out. She smiled at her Twin. 

“See,” she said. 

“Could you climb up the side of the 
gulley?” asked Mary. 

“Maybe I could follow the path back,” 
said Rose, doubtfully. 

“I wouldn’t go back by that path,” said 
13 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Mary, with a little shiver, “for anything, 
Rosie. It goes straight back to the wreck. 
And I never want to see a railroad again. 
But maybe we could find a house up on the 
top of that hill somewhere.” 

“What time is it?” said Rose. She sat 
down again beside Mary and leaned her 
head against the tree. 

“My wrist watch smashed all to bits,” 
said Mary. “See where it cut my 
wrist?” 

“Mine’s going,” said Rose. 

The cheery voice of Rose’s little watch 
was a good thing to hear; but it was ticking 
the minutes briskly away. It was after 
eight o’clock. The round red sun had 
gone down. All about them were the long, 
purple shadows of night. A sleepy 
robin was chirping somewhere above 
them. 


14 






THE WRECK 

“Why not stay here till morning, Mary?” 
said Rose. “I’m so tired. And my head 
aches dreadfully yet. Do let’s.” 

Mary looked all about her. It was a 
pretty little spot into which the runaway 
path had brought her. It had come 
through a little patch of woods bringing a 
stream with it to join a bigger stream here 
in the gulf. The little hollow in which 
she had found her Twin was as comfy and 
snug as if it had been made just to hold two 
frightened, train-wrecked little girls. At 
one side of it stood the staunch, little pine 
tree, whose needles helped to make the 
ground soft. At the other side was a wild 
apple tree in full bloom. The apple tree 
put out a friendly branch; the pine put out 
a friendly branch. Just over the little 
girls’ heads, the two branches met, like 
clasping hands. Pink apple blooms min- 
15 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


gled prettily with the glossy pine needles. 

“All right,” she said, slowly. “It won’t 
be long till morning, if we go right to sleep. 
But I’m not sleepy a bit.” 

“You can knit when the moon gets up 
higher, Mary,” said Rose, with a faint lit¬ 
tle giggle. “You’ve hung on to your knit¬ 
ting bag, I see.” 

Mary stared at the big blue-flowered 
thing on her arm. “It’s been there all this 
time,” she said, “and I never even saw it 
till now.” 

“I wish it was a lunch box,” said Rose. 
“My stomach feels so queer, Mary—maybe 
it’s empty.” 

“There’s a lunch in it,” cried Mary, ex¬ 
citedly diving down into the bag. “Four 
sandwiches and two oranges. Don’t you 
remember at the last minute, Aunt Rose 
put them in? What will Aunt Rose think 
16 






THE WRECK 

has become of us, Rose?” she added, sol¬ 
emnly. 

“I don’t know,” said Rose. “But we 
can’t do anything about it to-night, Mary.” 

Side by side, in the pine needles, the 
wrecked Twins ate their late supper. After 
it, they felt better. 

Mary put two sandwiches away carefully 
for breakfast. Then she curled down in 
the warm, little hollow beside her Twin. 
Overhead, the trees joined protecting 
hands. And slowly, the gulf was growing 
light from a great, yellow moon. 

“There’s something in these needles some¬ 
where,” said Rose, fidgeting about, “that 
hurts me. I thought it was part of the 
pain in my back, but it isn’t.” 

Mary burrowed about under Rose. She 
found something that was not a stone, but 
that in some way felt strangely out of place. 

17 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


She brought it out and held it up before her 
own and Rose’s surprised eyes. It was a 
small bead bag. Its colors caught the light 
of the coming moon. Its golden chain 
gleamed softly. 

“It belonged to some one in the train,” 
said Mary. “We’d just found it when the 
crash came.” 

“I couldn’t have clutched it all the time 
I was running and falling down, could I, 
Mary?” asked Rose. She gazed solemnly 
at the little bag. Then she gazed solemnly 
at Mary. 

“Why yes,” said Mary, “you could, 
Rose, because you did. But we won’t ever 
know now whose it is, will we?” 


18 






CHAPTER II 


THE RESCUE PARTY 


T HE sun gets up early in May. It 
really was not long before dawn 
was unrolling her rosy ribbons 
down the sides of the gulf in place of the 
moon’s silvery ones. But the Twins, in 
their bed of pine needles, slept on and 
on. 

When at last they did awake, it was at 
the same moment, as usual. Mary blinked 
at Rose. Rose blinked at Mary. Mary 
pulled herself up on one arm to get a better 
view. Rose did the same. Then both said 
“Ouch!” for Rose’s head hurt in back and 
Mary’s hurt in front. And muscles they 
had never known they had cried out 
19 


MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


sharply against being moved at all. 

Mary pushed the hair out of her eyes 
and stared at her Twin. Rose did not look 
like Rose. She had lost her black hair 
bow. Her hair was loose at the neck and 
very untidy, with bits of pine needles and 
moss clinging to it. Her middy-blouse was 
torn straight down the front. Her face 
smudged with soot looked white and 
strange. 

Meanwhile, Rose stared at Mary. Mary 
did not look like Mary. Her black hair 
bow still clung rakishly to a strand or two 
of hair. But a lock had broken loose and 
hung over her eyes. And it was full of 
broken pine needles. A sleeve of her 
middy was torn almost out. The cut across 
her forehead showed long and red. And 
where her face was not black with soot, it 
was very white indeed. 

20 






THE RESCUE PARTY 

“Can you get up, Rose?” Mary asked. 
At the same minute Rose said, anxiously, 
“Can you get up, Mary?” 

Both Twins could get up, stand up, and 
walk. But walking hurt Rose so much, 
that she sat down quickly again. 

“It hurts my back,” she said. 

Mary gazed anxiously at Rose’s dirty 
face. 

“I’m going to wet this clean handker¬ 
chief,” she said, “and wash your face. 
Then maybe you’ll feel better.” 

Mary made several trips to the stream 
before Rose’s face was clean. Then she 
washed her own. Each Twin breakfasted 
on a sandwich. Then Rose lay down 
again. 

“It’s my back or my head, I don’t know 
which,” she said fretfully, shutting her 
eyes. “Let’s just lie here till some one 
21 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


comes along and finds us,” she added, open¬ 
ing them again after a minute. 

“Nobody’ll come,” said Mary. “I’m go¬ 
ing to try to get up the side of the gulf, 
Rose. There must be a house up there 
somewhere.” 

“Oh, I can’t, Mary,” said Rose. 

“You stay right here, Rosie.” 

“Oh dear,” said Rose. “How you’ll ever 
manage without me, Mary Dawson, I don’t 
know.” 

Mary wondered, herself. Rose was al¬ 
ways the one who planned things and went 
ahead with them. 

“I’ll be back just as soon as I possibly 
can,” she said. 

She poked about, here and there, for a 
few minutes, in the growth of pines on the 
side of the gulf. She could not find any¬ 
thing like a path. At last, she began pull- 

22 






THE RESCUE PARTY 

ing herself up from one tree to another. It 
was almost straight up and down. By and 
by, the trees were farther apart, and the 
rocks became sand. Then, all at once, she 
found herself in the midst of low briery 
bushes that caught at and tore her skirt. 
Sometimes, a ledge of rock jutted out of the 
sand, and gave her a most unfriendly knock. 
It was slow, hard work. It seemed to 
Mary that she slipped back faster than she 
went ahead. If it had not been for Rose 
back there in the gulf, Mary must have 
given up. But thinking of her Twin, she 
pulled herself painfully along from ledge 
to ledge, scraping her arms and shins, gain¬ 
ing a little, losing a little, gaining more, 
losing less. At last, pausing for breath on 
a broader ledge, she found she was halfway 
up. She kept on, digging in her heels, 
clutching at blueberry bushes, step by step, 
23 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


tug by tug, until she was surely three quar¬ 
ters of the way up. Then, with a final ef¬ 
fort which made her poor head throb 
dreadfully, she brought herself to a ledge 
not far from the edge of the gulf. 
A fringe of blueberries grew along the 
edge. Mary could not quite reach 
them. 

“Maybe if I get my breath,” she thought, 
sitting down to rest for a minute, “and then 
give a little hop, I can get hold of one of 
them.” She gazed about for a friendly 
bush that might reach over a bit farther 
than the others. Then, quite suddenly, out 
of the tangle of green, a round, freckled, 
little face peered down at her, and a shrill 
excited little voice exclaimed: 

“I heard you coming. Only I didn’t 
s’pose ’twas a little girl. Who are you? 
And what made you come?” 

24 







THE RESCUE PARTY 

“Oh, help me up, please,” begged Mary. 
“Then I’ll tell you all about it.” 

The little face disappeared as suddenly 
as it had come. But the voice shrilled to 
some one Mary couldn’t see. 

“Pet—come here—quick!” 

Next minute, the little girl-face again 
peered over the ledge. A tuft of black 
hair showed above the face. And above 
the tuft, another face showed—a little-boy 
face, round, rosy, solemn, with big, won¬ 
derful, black-lashed blue eyes. 

Two voices called now. 

“Bobby—Bert,” they cried, “do come 
here quick.” 

Next minute, Mary waiting hopefully on 
her ledge, saw two more boy-faces, older 
than the first, looking anxiously down at 
her. And in spite of the fact that Mary 
had never liked boys, these faces looked 
25 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


good. Four pairs of arms reached down 
to help her up. And digging in her toes, 
and clasping fast to those stout, friendly, 
little hands, Mary went over the edge of 
the ledge and sat down, breathless, in the 
very middle of a blueberry bush. Four 
little folks stared at her. The little girl 
brushed at her skirt. 

“Did you fall over?’’ asked one of the 
older boys. 

“She climbed up,” said the little girl. 

“She couldn’t—not there,” said the boy. 

“I did,” said Mary. “Where am I, any¬ 
way?” 

“That’s the Penny Bank,” said the boy, 
who did the talking. He pointed out a 
big, rambling, old house perched on the 
hillside. “I’m Bob Penny.” 

“That’s where we live,” said the second 
boy. “Pm Bert Penny.” 

26 







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wfflfla 


| W&rL ft Mr i 

mWdW ¥/ €' i m* 

mliJi Mmt, f \ If- 


u 


ALL FOUR LITTLE PENNIES CAME A STEP NEARER TO GET 
A BETTER LOOK AT MARY.” 








THE RESCUE PARTY 


“I’m Pet,” said the little boy, “and she’s 
Trixy.” 

“We’re the four little Pennies,” said 
Trixy. “Everybody knows us. Who are 
you? Your face is dirty.” 

“Yes,” said Mary, “I suppose it is. 
I’m Mary Dawson,” she went on. “My 
Twin sister and I were on the train—” 

“Gee,” cried Bob. All four little Pen¬ 
nies came a step nearer to get a better look 
at Mary in her blueberry bush. “Were 
you in that wreck, yesterday?” 

Mary grew very white. 

“It was awful,” she said. “I can’t bear 
to think about it. Rose and I slept down 
in that gulf last night.” Mary sprang up. 
“Oh, I mustn’t stop to talk,” she cried. 
“Isn’t there some one who can go back 
down with me and help her up 
here?” 


27 




MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“There’s nobody home but us,” said Bob 
Penny. “Aunt Melissa’s gone to Over¬ 
brook for a little walk. That’s the big 
house up there—you can see it through the 
trees.” 

Mary stared at the roof of a big house 
farther up the hill. 

“Is there some one there who would go?” 
she asked. 

“It isn’t open,” said Bob. “There isn’t 
any one there. Bert and I can run to the 
village and get some one,” he added. 
“ ’Twon’t take so very long.” 

“Oh, it will seem ages to poor Rose,” 
cried Mary. 

“Couldn’t Bert and I carry her?” said 
Bob, thoughtfully. “Is she very big? Is 
she much hurt?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know,” cried 
Mary. “Anyway, she can’t walk much. 

28 






THE RESCUE PARTY 

She’s just exactly as big as I am,” she 
added. “Could you carry me?” 

“Try and see,” said Bob promptly. He 
and Bert quickly made a chair of their four 
hands. They offered it to Mary. She 
slipped into it, put her arms around the 
boys’ necks, and was carried easily enough. 

“But up that bank?”' cried Mary. 

“Huh,” said Bob. “I guess not. 
There’s a path.” 

As soon as the path into the gulf was 
pointed out to Mary, she fairly ran down 
it. Bob kept close beside her on one side, 
Bert on the other; Trixy and Pet panted 
along behind. 

It was not long before they came in sight 
of the little pine tree and the little apple 
tree guarding the little hollow. Rose was 
asleep. Her face was half-hidden by her 
mass of blonde hair. As if she felt their 
29 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


eyes upon her, she woke quickly and pulled 
herself up, staring at them with wide, 
startled, blue eyes. 

“Why, she’s most exactly like you,” cried 
Trixy. 

“Rose,” said Mary, eagerly, “here are 
the four little Pennies from the Penny 
Bank up on the hill. They’re going to 
carry you up the path—it’s real easy.” 

A plucky, little dimple came out in 
Rose’s cheek as she looked at her rescue 
party. 

“I’m pretty heavy to carry,” she said. 
“Maybe I can walk if it isn’t far.” 

“Bert and I can carry you,” said Bob, 
importantly. 

So, with Mary and Pet and Trixy all 
trying to help, Rose got into the chair Bob 
and Bert made and held low for her. It 
hurt her some, when she put her arms 
30 






THE RESCUE PARTY 

around their necks, and she winced a little 
when they set out. 

“Oh please go carefully,” begged Mary. 
She winced every time her Twin did, and 
sometimes when she did not. 

Bob and Bert went slowly and carefully. 
Pet followed with Mary’s flowered bag. 
Mary and Trixy walked one on each side 
of Rose to help steady her. Twice, they 
stopped to rest. But the little path was 
cool and quiet. It had a delightful way of 
running from one pretty nook to another, 
beckoning all the way. The air was fresh 
and sweet with all the dew-wet things of 
the woods. It really was not long before 
they came in sight of the hospitable Penny 
Bank. At sight of its broad porch and 
wide-open windows, Rose gave a little sigh 
of relief. 

“It’s almost like home, Mary,” she cried. 

31 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


She tried to bounce a little on her chair. 
Instead she fainted dead away. 

Staggering, now, with her weight, the 
boys got her up the steps and on to the porch 
where a comfortable old lounge, heaped 
high with pillows, seemed to wait for 
her. 

Mary, worn out with her long strain and 
this new anxiety, was almost as white as her 
Twin. Trixy brought water and Mary 
spilled it on Rose’s face and down her neck. 
Bob rushed to the telephone and called a 
doctor from the little village below the hill. 
Bert started to Overbrook to bring Aunt 
Melissa. Pet followed, still carrying 
Mary’s blue bag. 

In a minute or two, Rose opened her 
eyes. 

“That’s the first thing I ever did that you 
didn’t do, Mary,” she said, a dimple show- 
32 






THE RESCUE PARTY 

ing for a brief moment. “Do lie down, 
you look lots worse than I feel.” 

“Here’s Aunt Meliss’ now,” cried Trixy. 
She ran down the steps to hurry Bert and 
Aunt Melissa. The next minute, they all 
three came back across the porch. 

“Bless your dear, frightened-to-death, lit¬ 
tle hearts,” cried Aunt Melissa. She 
looked at the dirty, scratched faces and 
hands, the torn, bedraggled skirts and 
waists, the dusty stockings and shoes. Then 
she sat down between them and gathered 
both Twins right up into her kind, motherly 
arms. “Aunt Melissa’s come, and she’ll 
take care of you. Curl right up there— 
both of you—while I get you some nice, 
hot milk. By and by, you shall tell me all 
about everything.” 


33 






CHAPTER III 


AN AUNT, A NURSE, AND A DOG 


A UNT MELISSA had scarcely 
finished her sentence, when up 
the steep hill from the village 
and into the yard of the Penny Bank, puffed 
a doctor’s car. The doctor, stout and fussy 
like his car, puffed across the porch toward 
them. 

“What’s all this?” he demanded. He 
set down his case, whisked out a thermom¬ 
eter, and thrust it into Mary’s unwilling 
mouth. Then he began to look Rose over. 
He shook his head, now and then, as if he 
was discovering dreadful things. Mary 
watched anxiously. The thermometer 
wouldn’t let her talk. 

34 


AN AUNT 

After what seemed a very long time to 
Mary, he whisked the thermometer out of 
her mouth, shook his head over it, cleansed 
it, and put it under Rose’s tongue. Then 
he began on Mary. 

“There’s nothing the matter with me,” 
she said. “It was Rose, not me, who was 
hurt, doctor.” 

“Yes, yes,” said the little doctor. He 
went right on glaring at her cut forehead, 
feeling her pulse, gazing at her tongue, and 
poking her here and there. By and by, he 
set her down on the old lounge beside her 
Twin. 

“It’s a wonder they weren’t both killed 
and done with it,” he said to Aunt Melissa, 
who helped him dress Mary’s cut. “But 
there isn’t a bone broken. The thing they 
must do, Mrs. Penny, is to sleep—all to-day 
and all to-night. Then to-morrow they 
35 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


must begin and do it all over again. And 
eat—they must have plenty of good, nour¬ 
ishing food.” 

“But if they sleep all the time, when can 
they eat?” asked Pet, suddenly. 

“Hey?” said the doctor, glaring at Pet 
over his big spectacles. “Eat and sleep, I 
say,” he said all over again to the Twins. 
“You don’t need medicine—not a bit of it.” 

Mary and Rose did not know much 
about doctors. They could not remember 
that they had ever had one before in all 
their lives. They were not even looking at 
him. They sat staring straight into each 
other’s eyes—a habit of theirs. Now, sud¬ 
denly, Mary spoke the thought that was in 
both heads. 

“We can’t go to sleep,” she said, anx¬ 
iously turning toward the little doctor, “un¬ 
til—” 


36 






AN AUNT 

“Until what, young lady?” asked the doc¬ 
tor, testily. 

Dr. Bradley did not know much about 
children. He was more interested in cases. 

“What will Aunt Rose think has become 
of us?” said Mary slowly. “And father— 
if he knows.” 

“Where is this Aunt Rose?” asked the 
doctor. “Was she wrecked, too?” 

“Oh no,” said Mary. “We left her in 
the car.” 

“We were going on ahead of her to sur¬ 
prise father,” said Rose. 

“Begin at the very beginning,” said Aunt 
Melissa, gently. “Let them get everything 
off their minds,” she added to the doctor, 
who was fuming about the porch, “then 
they can rest better.” 

“Well,” said Mary, “to begin with, 
we’re Rose and Mary Dawson. I’m Mary. 

37 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Most of our friends call us ‘The Rosemary 
Twins.’ ” 

“Never mind frills and roses, now,” said 
the little doctor. “Tell just what’s neces¬ 
sary.” 

“Go on, dear,” encouraged Aunt Melissa. 

“We live at Sugar River in a farmhouse,” 
said Rose. “Oh dear, that isn’t necessary, 
either. Yob go on, Mary!” 

“We have two aunts,” said Mary. 
“Aunt Mary Craig—who lives in New 
York. Probably Aunt Rose has sent her 
word, Rose.” 

“And Aunt Rose Norris,” hurried Rose, 
because the doctor was tapping the floor 
impatiently with his foot. “She’s father’s 
sister. She lives in California.” 

“California?” cried the doctor. 

“Oh, but she isn’t there now,” explained 
Mary. “We’ve been out there living with 
38 






AN AUNT 

her a year. We’ve come all the way back 
in her car.” 

“And yesterday, she put us on the train 
to go on home,” said Rose, “while she went 
on in the car to make some visits—” 

“Nice way to bring up children,” said 
the doctor, “traveling all over the United 
States, alone.” 

“We weren’t alone till yesterday,” cried 
Mary, indignantly. “It wasn’t a very long 
trip—we’d been home in no time if we 
hadn’t been wrecked.” 

“Aunt Rose was coming on soon, too,” 
said Rose. “She’s building a new bunga¬ 
low near our home in Sugar River—” 

“Never mind building a house and fur¬ 
nishing it, now,” said the doctor. “I say 
you must rest, not talk all the time. So far 
as I can make out, this Aunt Rose is the 
only one who’ll worry about you then— 
39 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


serves her right, letting you go on a train, 
alone.” 

“Maybe she’s telegraphed father by 
now,” said Mary. She grew so white that 
the doctor became fussier and crosser than 
ever. 

“And Aunt Mary,” said Rose, as white 
as her Twin. 

“There you go again,” cried the doctor. 
“What one of you doesn’t think of, the other 
one does.” 

“Can’t we telegraph father right off?” 
said Mary. “ ’Cause we can’t get Aunt 
Rose, anyway.” 

“Why not?” snapped the doctor. 

“Her address was in Mary’s pocket- 
book,” said Rose. “And it’s lost—and the 
suit case—and everything—” 

“Except my knitting bag,” said Mary. 

“Is there any reason why I can’t tele- 
40 






AN AUNT 

phone Sugar River—and your father?” said 
the doctor. “Now don’t tell me he hasn’t 
a phone. These people who haven’t 
phones—” 

“He has,” said Mary. “But—” 

“But what?” cried the doctor, hopping 
about. This was no way for patients to 
rest. 

“Oh dear,” said Mary, “we’ve been so 
far away for,so long, I’d forgotten you 
could phone. Of course, I’ll phone father, 
myself.” 

“You’ll do no such thing,” said the doc¬ 
tor. “You’ll drink some milk and you’ll 
go to sleep—both of you. That’s what 
you’ll do. I’ll phone your father, myself.” 

But it was right here that Bob and Bert 
who had been trying to get in a word for 
ever so long, burst into the conversation 
together. 


41 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Gee,” said Bob, with no regard to Eng¬ 
lish whatever, “I’ll bet that was her at the 
station.” 

“There was a woman and a car—a big 
one—at the station,” said Bert, meanwhile. 

“She was telephoning everywhere,” went 
on Bob. 

“She said she’d lost some Mary-Rose 
twins, ’cause I heard her,” piped up Trixy. 

“Are you the Mary-Rose Twins?” Pet 
asked solemnly of the train-wrecked 
Twins. 

Every one was too much upset to pay any 
attention to Pet. And in spite of the doc¬ 
tor, every one talked at once and became 
very much excited. But it was the little 
doctor, himself, who called up the station. 

“This is the Penny Bank,” they heard 
him say. “Yes. Have there been inquir¬ 
ies for twin girls named Rose and Mary 
42 




AN AUNT 

Dawson, survivors of the wreck, yester¬ 
day?” 

The Rosemary Twins stared at each 
other. Were they really survivors of a 
wreck? 

“There have been?” the doctor was say¬ 
ing, meanwhile. “Well, tell her they’re 
here. Yes, here. The Penny Bank. Mr. 
Peter Penny’s home, just above the village. 
Yes. Send her right along then.” 

“Stay right where you are till your aunt 
comes,” he cried, bustling back to the 
porch. “She ought to be here in ten min¬ 
utes.” 

Just eight minutes later, by Rose’s watch, 
they heard the loud “Honk” of a heavy- 
powered touring car. It turned the corner 
just below the Penny Bank and fairly leaped 
up the hill. It stopped just outside the 
yard. A beautiful woman, with blonde 


43 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


hair under a blue-gray hat, flew up the 
walk, up the steps and across the porch. 

The next minute, she had the Rosemary 
Twins in her arms. All three sobbed ex¬ 
citedly. Aunt Melissa wiped her eyes. 
The four little Pennies formed a group 
about the lounge. The little doctor fussed 
up and down. “Bless my soul,” he said, 
“there’s nothing to cry about now, is there? 
We’re all safe now, aren’t we?” And he 
added something about “sleep” and “milk” 
which no one but himself heard. 

“Heard of the accident last night,” Aunt 
Rose was saying, between sobs and hugs. 
“Didn’t wait—started right along—drove 
like mad to Brookside. No one knew any¬ 
thing about you, Twinnies. I was wild— 
didn’t phone your father—knew how he’d 
blame me. Kept waiting—hoping to hear. 
Phoned up the line and down the line. 

44 






AN AUNT 

Waited all night at the hotel for a word— 
was sure you must show up somewhere. 
This morning, called up Aunt Mary. 
Thought maybe some one had taken you to 
her. She hadn’t heard a word. Was just 
going to phone your father—when the 
station-agent said you were here. Where 
have you been? And how did you get 
here? Oh, tell me everything quick!” 

In spite of the little doctor, every one 
talked. Mary and Rose told what little 
they knew of the wreck and what had fol¬ 
lowed it. Aunt Melissa and the little Pen¬ 
nies added what they could. The doctor 
helped out, too. The wreck had taken 
place just below Brookside station. Only 
a few had been seriously injured, and auto¬ 
mobiles had taken them to hospitals. 

“Your Rose-Twin, madam,” he went on 
to Aunt Rose, who still held fast to her 
45 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Twins, “was hit on the head. She must 
have run for a long distance and then fallen 
unconscious. Your Mary-Twin saw more 
of the wreck than was good for her, had 
some cuts, a bad nerve-shock, and hunted 
about till somehow she found her Twin. 
Don’t ask me how, madam. I don’t 
know.” 

“One of them always finds the other,” 
cried Aunt Rose. “You can’t keep my 
Rosemary Twins apart, doctor.” 

“Uh-uh,” grunted the doctor. “Well, 
my dear woman, I say they must have food 
and sleep—and at once—or I won’t answer 
for the results.” 

“I’ll put them right in the car,” said 
Aunt Rose, “and take them straight home.” 

“Not So fast, not so fast, my dear woman,” 
cried the doctor. “I can’t permit them to 
be moved for some days. A whole week 
46 






AN AUNT 

of sleep won’t hurt them. Stay right where 
you are for a week anyway—then we’ll 
see.” 

“A week in that hotel, doctor,” cried 
Aunt Rose, “would kill the three of us. 
I’ll take them to a hospital.” 

“Hotel! Hospital!” cried the doctor. 
“Stay right here in this Penny Bank—with 
Aunt Melissa to run it.” 

“Why, I couldn’t think—” began Aunt 
Rose. 

“You can’t think of doing anything else,” 
said Aunt Melissa. “The house is big and 
cool and you’re just as welcome. I’ll get 
a woman from the village to help out with 
the housework. Then I can help take care 
of the twins, maybe—” 

“I’ve brought a nurse,” cried Aunt Rose 
suddenly. “I forgot all about her—she’s 
in the car. Miss Russell,” she called. 

47 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


A pretty, little person, who looked like a 
little girl, came quickly up the walk. 

“I’m not presentable,” she said, as she 
sat down on the lounge between the Twins. 
“Your aunt wouldn’t give me time, last 
night, even to change my uniform. But 
here I am—are these my patients, doc¬ 
tor?” 

“They need food and sleep—” began the 
doctor. 

“I’m sending Larry back with the car to 
get our luggage, Miss Russell,” interrupted 
Aunt Rose. “Do we want anything else?” 

“What’ll we do about the dog?” asked 
the nurse, unexpectedly. 

“Oh, the dog!” cried Aunt Rose. “Larry 
found him in our car, this morning. He 
had hurt his paw—we think he was in the 
wreck, too. Larry and Miss Russell gave 
him first aid. He’s the friendliest old 
48 





AN AUNT 

chap. Could we keep him here, too, Mrs. 
Penny, until he gets better?” 

“Of course,” cried Aunt Melissa. “It 
won’t be the first hurt animal this old house 
has taken in. My little niece, who’s 
in New York now, used to bring in count¬ 
less cats and dogs when she was 
home.” 

At the first mention of a dog, all four 
little Pennies had scampered down to the 
car. And now Larry was coming up the 
walk, with a big brown and white terrier 
in his arms. 

“It’s Fritz, Aunt M’liss,” exclaimed Bob. 
“Or we guess it is.” 

“Course it’s Fritz,” said Pet, importantly. 
He was helping Larry by clutching fast to 
the dog’s tail. 

“Never mind the dog,” said the little 
doctor. “Get these children in bed, nurse, 
49 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


and keep them quiet. There’s altogether 
too much noise and excitement. It’s bad for 
them. I’ll be here again to-night,” he 
added, as he went fussily away. 


50 







CHAPTER IV 


doctor’s orders 


B Y afternoon, the old Penny Bank 
had become, inside, as much like 
a hospital as it possibly could in 
so short a time. In the big parlor, side by 
side, stood two little beds brought from up¬ 
stairs. 

In each bed was a Twin. After a hot 
bath, each had been put into a borrowed 
nightgown, each had had her blonde hair 
combed, brushed, braided in two long 
braids, and fastened with borrowed ribbons. 
Now that the excitement, strain, and anx¬ 
iety of being wrecked and rescued was 
over, they were weak and tired. Rose was 
51 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


drowsy, and fell asleep almost at once, but 
Mary was wide-awake and restless. 

Aunt Rose was resting upstairs from her 
long night of anxiety and wakefulness. 
The dog had been made comfortable, too. 
He was in a bed in a store room off the 
kitchen. He had lost his collar in the 
wreck; but every minute, the little Pennies 
grew more certain that he was their friend 
Joel Bernard’s wonderful trick-dog, Fritz. 

“If he can do all sorts of tricks,” Bob 
explained to Miss Russell, “he’s Fritz. 
But if he can’t, he’s just a common dog.” 

The four little Pennies followed the little 
nurse about, telling her stories of Fritz. 
He had been a circus dog once, long ago, 
they said. But now he lived in New York 
with Joe and his sister, Betty. Joe was in 
college and Betty was in school, somewhere. 
And what ever did Miss Russell suppose 
52 





DOCTOR’S ORDERS 


Fritz could have been doing in that wreck? 

Miss Russell smiled at the four little Pen¬ 
nies. She did not suppose the injured dog 
was the “Fritz” dog at all. But she did 
not say so. The dog who had come out of 
the wreck was a fine fellow. And she 
meant to take good care of him as well as 
of her other patients. 

After a while she sent the four little Pen¬ 
nies outdoors to play. She tiptoed to the 
parlor door and peeped in. 

Mary smiled at her. Miss Russell smiled 
back. 

“Close your eyes, dear, and go to sleep,” 
she said. 

Mary closed her eyes. But she opened 
them again just as quickly. Whenever 
Mary shut her eyes, she saw the things she 
had seen in the wreck. She liked the old- 
fashioned parlor better. It had a fireplace, 
53 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


now filled with apple bloom and fern. 
Aunt Rose had exclaimed with delight over 
the few pieces of quaint, old furniture. 
There were some queer, old pictures, too, 
most of them Bible scenes. Over the 
mantel hung a large picture of a girl. 
Mary’s eyes came back always to this pic¬ 
ture. The girl wore a dark straw hat, 
turned up across the front, showing her 
fluffy hair. Her eyes laughed straight 
across the room at Mary. Mary could 
not think what she would have done all that 
long afternoon, while Rose slept, if it had 
not been for the picture girl. Mary talked 
to her, and it seemed as if the girl talked, 
too. By supper time, Mary felt well ac¬ 
quainted with her. 

When Miss Russell came in to talk about 
their suppers, she found a white, weary, 
wide-eyed Mary and a flushed, drowsy 
54 






DOCTOR'S ORDERS 


Rose. One was too tired and the other too 
sleepy, to want much supper. And when 
the little doctor came later, he shook his 
head and scolded Miss Russell. Mary was 
done up in a bathrobe and put out on the 
porch lounge, so Rose could sleep some 
more, if she wanted to. 

It was cool and sweet on the porch with a 
pink sunset light, everywhere. Trixy 
brought one of her dolls and climbed up 
beside Mary. 

“If Lissy was here, she’d make my doll 
a new dress,” she said. 

“Who’s Lissy?” asked Mary, listlessly. 
She had heard the name over and over 
since she came to the Penny Bank. At this 
minute, she was wearing Lissy’s bathrobe. 

“Don’t you know Lissy?” cried Trixy. 
“She’s my sister. She’s a very nice girl— 
Lissy is. She lives with John and Doris 
55 





MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


and they’ve got a brand-new baby. Her 
name’s Gerry Dean. She makes ’leven 
Pennies in all. There’s been just a dime 
of us before.” 

Trixy chattered on and on. Mary was 
too tired to listen and too tired to try to 
stop her. 

“Aunt M’liss and father’s two,” counted 
Trixy. “ ’Nen John and Lissy—that’s 
four. And Doris is five.” She illustrated 
with the fingers of one hand. “ ’Nen there’s 
four of us—that’s nine, ’cause Bob says so. 
Bob can count like anything. I can’t, ’cause 
I’m only five yet awhile. ’Nen there’s 
Margie—she’s ten.” Trixy waved both 
hands, fingers spread wide. “Now Gerry 
Dean’s come—she’s ’leven. But I haven’t 
any fingers to count her on.” 

Right in the midst of Trixy’s chatter, 
Miss Russell came to help Mary to bed. 

56 






DOCTOR’S ORDERS 


To Mary’s surprise, they went upstairs into 
a long, narrow room with sloping walls on 
two sides and quaint dormer windows. 

Mary liked the room. It was sweet with 
apple blossoms. For a giant apple tree 
stood so close to one of the windows that 
some of its blossoms were almost inside. 

“Where’s Rose?” asked Mary, as she 
crept between the clover-scented sheets and 
moved over toward the back of the bed. 

“Rose will sleep downstairs to-night,” 
said Miss Russell. 

“But we always sleep together,” objected 
Mary. 

“Not to-night, dear.” 

“Rose won’t sleep without me,” said 
Mary, positively. 

“She said that about you,” said the little 
nurse. “But the doctor says you are better 
apart.” 


57 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Mary did not say anything more. But a 
big, strange ache came into her heart. 
Was there something terrible the matter 
with her Twin? It must be a big some¬ 
thing that separated Twins who were always 
together. 

“Aunt Rose will sleep downstairs in the 
little bedroom off the parlor,” said Miss 
Russell, quite as if the separation of Twins 
was an everyday affair. “And I’ll sleep 
here on this cot.” 

Mary said nothing. There seemed to be 
nothing to say. 

“Don’t look so woebegone, Mary dear,” 
said Miss Russell. 

“Wouldn’t you look woebegone if half of 
you was taken away?” asked Mary. Her 
lips quivered so she couldn’t say anything 
more. 

Aunt Melissa came in just then. She 

58 






DOCTOR'S ORDERS 


moved about quietly, giving a last touch 
or two to the room. 

“How do you like Lissy’s room?” she 
asked Mary. “That’s her photo on the 
dresser.” 

Mary tried to feel some interest in the 
picture of a girl with sweet, serious eyes. 

“There’s a dime of us Pennies when 
we’re all together,” went on Aunt Melissa. 

“Isn’t there a new baby?” asked Mary, 
bits of Trixy’s chatter coming back to her. 

“Miss Geraldine Penny,” cried Aunt 
Melissa. “Bless my soul, if I hadn’t over¬ 
looked her for a minute. She’s two days 
old. I’ll tell you what you can do, dear,” 
she went on, stooping to kiss the pale anx¬ 
ious little face on Lissy’s big pillow, “you 
count the Pennies, over and over, begin¬ 
ning with me and ending with Geraldine. 
First thing you know it will be morning.” 

59 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Aunt Melissa looked so big and comfort¬ 
ing, Mary wished she was as little as Trixy 
so she could creep into her arms and sob 
out her homesickness and worry about her 
Twin. Maybe, if it hadn’t been for the 
little, white nurse waiting at the foot of the 
bed, she would have done so, anyway. 
Maybe not. The Rosemary Twins never 
told troublesome things to any one except 
themselves—unless, once in a great while, to 
Father. 

Aunt Melissa went away. Miss Russell 
went to bed. Mary bravely shut her eyes. 
She called up the procession of Pennies, 
big, middle-sized, and little. She found 
she could not remember all of their names. 
But she marched them up the hill, up the 
steps, across the porch, and into the Penny 
Bank. She wanted them to go through the 
house and out the back door. But, instead, 
60 






DOCTOR’S ORDERS 


they all trooped into the parlor to find 
Rose. 

And Rose’s bed was empty! Mary 
screamed. Miss Russell was at her side in 
a minute—a cloud of dark hair falling 
about her bright, dark eyes. She shook up 
Mary’s pillow, put a soft hand on her fore¬ 
head, and told her to go to sleep. 

Mary tried again. This time, the Pen¬ 
nies tried to climb a steep hill. Mary’s 
back did all the aching that eleven backs 
should have done. By and by, Pet fell 
over the edge of something with the new 
baby. Mary screamed. Miss Russell was 
there again, shaking the pillow, touching 
her softly, and telling her to go to sleep. 

In a few minutes, eleven Pennies climbed 
on a train that was promptly wrecked. 
Mary screamed. But this time, Miss Rus¬ 
sell did not come. She had gone down- 
61 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


stairs. And the sun was looking in through 
the apple blossoms. 

Mary reached out for Rose, found she 
was not there, remembered where she was, 
and started to get up and run down to find 
her. But only one foot was out of bed 
when Miss Russell came in. 

“Rose is having her breakfast,” she said, 
before Mary could say anything. “And in 
two or three twinklings you shall have 
yours.” 

Miss Russell brought a little stand to 
Mary’s bedside. On it she set out all the 
things necessary to wash Mary’s face and 
hands. Mary went through all the tire¬ 
some preparations as patiently as she 
could. She could scarcely wait to see 
Rose. 

“I haven’t any dress, except the torn one,” 
she said. 


62 







DOCTOR'S ORDERS 


“Put on Lissy’s bathrobe again,” said 
Miss Russell. “I’m going to bring your 
breakfast up here.” 

“Please let me run down and eat with 
Rose,” begged Mary. 

“Rose will be all through by now,” said 
Miss Russell. 

It was a good breakfast she brought Mary 
in a few minutes, “just exactly like Rose’s,” 
she told Mary. But Mary did not eat 
much. She nibbled a roll and sipped some 
milk. 

“That’s enough,” she said. “I want to 
go down and see Rose.” 

“Now, Mary dear, listen,” said Miss Rus¬ 
sell. She was kind, but firm. “You are 
to stay up here all day.” 

“All day?” cried Mary. 

“All day,” said Miss Russell. 

“But I’m not the one who was hurt, Miss 
63 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Russell,” explained Mary patiently. “It 
was Rose.” She felt sure that, as so often 
had happened, doctor and nurse had con¬ 
fused her with her Twin. 

Miss Russell nodded. 

“Well,” said Mary, “then is Rose coming 
up here?” 

“You’re a sensible little girl, Mary,” said 
Miss Russell. “And you are not going to 
make things hard for us, I know. You are 
to stay up here and Rose is to stay down 
stairs for three days.” 

“But what for?” asked Mary. 

“Doctor’s orders,” said Miss Russell. 
“Now don’t fret, Mary, three days isn’t 
long” 

Without another word, she went down¬ 
stairs. At the foot of the stairs, she met 
Aunt Rose. Aunt Rose was white and anx¬ 
ious. 


64 






DOCTOR’S ORDERS 


“What did Mary say?” she whispered. 

“She doesn’t say much,” said Miss Rus¬ 
sell. 

“But I know just how she looks,” cried 
Aunt Rose, “because Rose looks exactly the 
same.” 

“Well, three days are only three days,” 
said Miss Russell. 

To the Rose-Twin in the parlor and the 
Mary-Twin upstairs, there probably never 
was a day quite so long as that one. It 
turned out to be Monday, too, though how 
that busy day before could have been Sun¬ 
day, neither Twin could quite understand. 
The little doctor visited Rose, fumed and 
fussed because she was feverish and had not 
slept well and because all she wanted was to 
go upstairs where Mary was. Then he 
visited Mary, fumed and fussed because 
she was white and listless and did not want 
65 




MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


anything except to go downstairs where Rose 
was. 

“Keep them both quiet,” he said, as he 
went away, “ab-so-lute-ly quiet.” 

The doctor’s voice was pitched in a high 
key. So, not only did Miss Russell hear, 
but Mary upstairs and Rose downstairs 
heard his “ab-so-lute-ly quiet.” And each 
one knew that the other was worse. 

Late that afternoon, there was a long, 
sharp ring at the telephone. The telephone 
was in the living room. Mary’s room was 
just over it, and Rose’s room was just across 
from it. So both Twins could not help 
hearing most of what Aunt Melissa said, in 
answer to the voice at the other end of the 
line. The voice at the other end of the line 
was in New York and belonged to Lissy 
Penny. 

“Yes,” said Aunt Melissa in the half- 
66 





DOCTOR'S ORDERS 


hushed voice that is always used when there 
is sickness in the house. Then another 
“Yes.” And then another much surprised 
“Yes?” 

“Margie in that wreck?” she said. Then 
after a half minute, “Well, wasn’t that 
fortunate? Not hurt a bit, anywhere? 
She was coming to see us? Well, well, bless 
her heart. What did you say? Who did 
you say? Fritz? Wait a minute. Lissy, 
are you still there? Well, there’s a dog 
here—yes, yes, yes. I don’t know as I’d 
know Fritz. But the boys think it is. 
We’re taking good care of him. He’ll be 
all right. Runs all over now. But listen, 
Lissy.” 

In a voice still lower, Aunt Melissa told 
hurriedly of the other survivors of the wreck 
in the Penny Bank. “Their Aunt is here 
with them,” she explained, “and a trained 
67 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


nurse. Well, we can’t tell exactly yet about 
—the doctor says—of course, it may be.” 

These last disconnected sentences made 
Mary suddenly bury her face in Lissy Pen¬ 
ny’s pillow to hide a big sob. Of course all 
of them had to do with Rose. But Rose, 
her own face hidden in a pillow, knew that 
all of them had to do with Mary. And 
neither of them would eat any supper, even 
though there were strawberries that Aunt 
Mary had sent up from New York, espe¬ 
cially for them. 

In the small hall at the foot of the stairs, 
one of the supper trays met the other. Miss 
Russell and Aunt Rose glanced across them 
at each other. They both went slowly into 
the kitchen. 

It was while every one was at supper in 
the dining room, that something happened 
to Mary. 


68 





DOCTOR’S ORDERS 


First, she heard the sound of sharp tip¬ 
tapping on the stairs. The next minute, 
the door of her room was pushed open by 
an inquiring nose. Into the room, still 
limping a little, came the big dog. 

His tail, which was quite unhurt, wagged 
eagerly. Mary did not care much for 
dogs. But this one was so friendly, she did 
not mind when he came to the bed. He had 
something in his mouth. Whatever it was 
he put it down with great care, not far from 
Mary’s hand. Mary reached for it. It 
was the pretty bead bag that had come 
through the wreck with Rose. She had for¬ 
gotten all about it. She wondered listlessly 
where the dog had found it. Down in the 
little pine hollow, probably. Mary slipped 
it under her pillow. To-morrow she 
would ask Miss Russell or Aunt Rose what 
to do with it. 


69 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


But Mary had no more than put it under 
her pillow, when the dog rose suddenly on 
his hind legs, dug his head under the pillow, 
and brought it out again. Then, his tail 
wagging proudly, he gave it to Mary. He 
sat down beside the bed, saying, as plainly as 
he could, “Do it again.” 

Over and over, Mary tried to find a place 
to put the bag where the dog would not find 
it. But wherever she hid it, he dragged it 
out and gave it to her. Each time, he 
fairly bristled with pride from his cropped 
ears to his uncropped tail to think he had 
found it. At any other time, Mary would 
have marveled at his cleverness. Now, she 
did not care much about it or anything else. 
At last, she dragged herself out of bed, went 
slowly to the wide-open window, climbed 
up on the sill, and, reaching up, hung the 
70 




DOCTOR’S ORDERS 


bag by its gold chain in the blossomy 
branches of the old apple tree. 

Surprised, the dog studied this new hid¬ 
ing place. For some time, he tried to think 
of some way to reach the bag. Then, giv¬ 
ing it up, he jumped up on the bed beside 
Mary, and curled down beside her. Mary 
patted his head. He snuggled close up 
against her, and in a few minutes, they were 
both sound asleep. 


71 






CHAPTER V 


“upstairs, downstairs” 


W HEN Mary woke next morn¬ 
ing, all thoughts of the bead 
bag had gone out of her head. 
And that was a day so brimful of strange 
happenings, and was followed by so many 
others almost as full, that it was no wonder 
she forgot it entirely, until a long time after¬ 
ward. 

In the first place, when Miss Russell 
brought her breakfast, she said, “Something 
nice is going to happen, Mary-Twin, so 
you must eat plenty of breakfast.” 

The only nice thing that could happen, 
so far as Mary could think, was getting 
back her Twin. So she decided, at once, 
72 


“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


that Rose was better and that she was going 
downstairs to see her. Even if she could 
not stay all day, an hour or two would be 
worth something. So Mary swallowed her 
orange juice at one gulp, and ate her cream 
toast, though she did not like cream toast, 
anyway. 

Aunt Rose came into the room and fussed 
about, picking things up and putting them 
down again. She was smiling and excited 
over something. Mary was sure she was to 
go downstairs. She waited patiently while 
she was made ready, her hair braided and 
her bathrobe slipped over her nightgown. 

Downstairs, in Rose’s room, the very same 
things happened. And Rose, her eyes 
bright, her cheeks red, was sure Mary was 
better, and that she was going up to make 
her a visit. 

Then, just as Mary should have gone 
73 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 

downstairs or Rose should have gone up¬ 
stairs something very different happened. 
The doctor’s fussy little car arrived, and he 
came in more fussy and excited than ever, 
if possible. Up and down, up and down 
Rose’s room he walked. Finally, he went 
out on the porch and walked there, his watch 
in his hand. “Should be here this minute, 
if he’s coming at all,” Rose heard him say 
as he went by her window. 

By and by, a big, gray car, driven by a 
chauffeur in gray uniform, came swiftly up 
the hill and stopped outside the Penny 
Bank. A tall, slim man and a stout, hand¬ 
some woman got out and came up the walk. 

The little doctor brought the tall, slim 
man into Rose’s room. They looked funny, 
side by side, Rose thought. The tall, slim 
man turned out to be a famous doctor from 
the city. He asked Rose all sorts of ques- 
74 










“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


tions. When she was sure he could not 
think of another one, he began on Miss Rus¬ 
sell. He asked her all he had asked Rose 
and ever so many more. He thumped Rose 
here and thumped her there. He rolled 
her about the bed as if she had been a sack 
of something. He looked at her steadily, 
for a minute, as if he were peering straight 
into her brain. Then he said-“Humph!” 
and walked out. 

They went upstairs into Mary’s room. 
Mary would have laughed if she had not 
felt so worried. For the little doctor had 
to take three or four steps to every one of 
the tall doctor’s strides. They reached 
Mary’s bedside about the same time. And 
Mary was thumped, rolled about, and ques¬ 
tioned. Miss Russell, who had followed 
them into the room, was questioned, too. 
Then the strange doctor gazed long and 
75 





MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


fixedly at Mary, said “Humph!” and went 
out, the little one trotting along beside him. 

Out on the porch, the doctors smoked and 
talked things over. Rose knew from their 
tones that they had found Mary very bad 
off. And Mary knew they had found 
something dreadful was the matter with 
Rose. 

Just then, Aunt Rose, in fresh, blue linen, 
came into Rose’s room, and said, “Guess 
who’s coming!” And before Rose could 
more than think “Mary!” in came the stout, 
handsome woman, who had come in the 
car, and who was Aunt Mary Craig, her¬ 
self. The very thought that this busy, 
wealthy member of the family had come 
all the way from New York to see them 
and had brought her own doctor, convinced 
Rose that somebody must be bad off. And 
as she did not feel badly anywhere, it must 
76 







“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


be poor Mary. So she just hid her face 
in Aunt Mary’s arms and cried. Aunt 
Mary, who had never before seen a tear in 
her Rose-Twin’s eyes, and who could not 
bear tears anyway, couldn’t think of any¬ 
thing to do except to scold poor Aunt Rose. 
So Aunt Rose shed some tears, too. 

Meanwhile, upstairs, Miss Russell said, 
“Who do you suppose is coming?” And 
Mary, wondering if it could possibly be 
Rose, saw, instead, Aunt Mary’s ample fig¬ 
ure filling the doorway. And if Aunt 
Mary could give up all her clubs and com¬ 
mittees and churches and charities to come 
’way up here, why, of course, Rose must 
be very bad indeed. So, she just threw 
both arms around Aunt Mary’s neck and 
sobbed. Aunt Mary scolded Aunt Rose 
some more, and went away shaking her head 
and looking much worried. 

77 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


When the car had gone away, taking 
Aunt Mary and the city doctor, it was din¬ 
ner time. And again, neither Twin would 
eat. 

“Why can’t I eat with Mary?” said Rose, 
impatiently. “I never could eat alone, 
Miss Russell. Is it better for Mary— 
really?” 

“The doctor thinks so,” said Miss Rus¬ 
sell. 

Upstairs, Mary was saying, “Is it really 
better for Rose, Aunt Rose, to be kept away 
from me?” 

Poor Aunt Rose, who had been scolded 
all the morning about something, was so 
near tears again that she could only nod her 
head in answer. 

So back to the kitchen, traveled two full 
dinner trays. 

“I’d let them try a meal together—poor 

78 






“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


lonesome little dears,” said Aunt Melissa. 

“So would I,” said Aunt Rose. “If you 
had ever seen my Rosemary Twins before 
this happened, Mrs. Penny, you would 
never believe they were the same girls 
now.” 

“Let’s try the box,” said Miss Russell. 

The box had come with Aunt Mary 
Craig and stood in the living room. After 
dinner, Aunt Rose and Miss Russell opened 
it. Half its contents went upstairs with 
Aunt Rose to Mary’s room, the other half 
went with Miss Russell into Rose’s 
room. 

First of all, there were twin, pink bath¬ 
robes and twin, blue kimonos. There were 
twin, blue kilted skirts almost like the ones 
that had been in the wreck. There were 
twin white middies and twin blue ones. 
There were twin pink ginghams and twin 
79 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


blue linens. There were twin hats and 
twin pairs of oxfords and twin pairs of 
stockings. In fact, there was a whole, new 
wardrobe for each little girl in the place 
of the one that had gone into and never 
come out of the wreck. 

Mary looked on listlessly while Aunt 
Rose showed them off. And Rose agreed 
with Miss Russell that an Aunt Mary Craig 
was every bit as good as a fairy godmother. 
But she was not enthusiastic. 

“If you could ever have seen them and 
heard them the last time a box came from 
Mary Craig,” said Aunt Rose, when she 
and Miss Russell compared notes a little 
later. 

Long as it was, that Tuesday was at last 
coming to its close. Out on the porch, 
Aunt Melissa tried to keep four little Pen¬ 
nies and a dog reasonably quiet. Miss 
80 







“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


Russell went out to sit down for a few min¬ 
utes. In the little bedroom, off the parlor, 
Aunt Rose was going to bed. She was 
quite worn out. In the parlor, where the 
curtains swayed in the soft wind and the 
scent of opening lilacs stole in through the 
wide-open windows, Rose lay still. All she 
could think of was Mary. 

Upstairs, in Lissy Penny’s big bed, lay 
Mary. The curtains stirred gently. The 
old apple tree tapped the window-pane and 
sent her its last fragrant messages. But 
all she could think of was Rose. 

At the very same minute, both Twins 
heard a sound that brought them sitting 
straight up in bed. It was the sound of a 
small roadster tearing up the hill. It was 
not the fussing and fuming of the doctor’s 
car, not the powerful exhaust of Aunt 
Mary’s, nor the steady purr of Aunt Rose’s. 

81 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


It was a queer, noisy, jerky little sound that 
ended in a shrill grinding of brakes as the 
car came to a sudden stop outside the Penny 
Bank. Mary bounded out of bed and ran 
to the front window. 

Outside the yard was an old battered car, 
and just getting out of it was a tall, blonde 
man. He strode up the walk. 

“Father, oh Father,” screamed Mary, 
from her window. Father looked up, saw 
her, waved his hand, and came dashing up 
the steps. 

“Where are they?” he cried to the group 
on the porch. Then waiting for no an¬ 
swer, he sprang across the porch. He 
found himself in a little square hall, took 
the stairs ahead of him at a leap or two, 
turned a corner in the upper hall, and the 
next minute, he had gathered a sobbing 
Twin up into his arms. Then they sat 
82 






“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


down in the old rocking-chair that had be¬ 
longed to Lissy Penny’s mother. 

“Oh Father, Father, Father,” cried 
Mary, clutching him as if she would never 
let him go again. “Why didn’t you come 
before? And why can’t I see Rose?” 

“Where is she?” cried Father, in sudden 
alarm. He knew his Rosemary Twins, as 
no one else did. And he had supposed that 
wherever one was, there the other one 
would be, too. 

“Here I am,” cried a glad, little voice. 
And running through the door, a pink 
kimono and two, long, light braids flying 
out behind, came Rose. Somehow, she, 
too, was in Father’s lap. The old rocking- 
chair creaked gleefully. Rose reached out 
for Mary. Mary reached out for Rose. 
Father put his arms around them both and 
let them cry it out together. 

83 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


There had been only a sob or two from 
Mary and a sob or two from Rose, when 
into the room came a strange procession. 
It was headed by Aunt Rose, trailing blue 
silk draperies after her. Next came Aunt 
Melissa, four wondering little Pennies 
clinging to her, then Miss Russell with a 
pink bedroom slipper in one hand. Last of 
all came the dog, a pink hair ribbon in his 
mouth. 

Father stood up, tall and straight, to meet 
them. The Rosemary Twins, in the old 
rocker, stopped crying and peered out, one 
on each side of him. 

“What does this mean, Rose?” he asked 
his sister. 

“Rose couldn’t walk,” said Aunt Rose. 

“She ran upstairs,” said father. 

“They didn’t let me try,” said Rose. 
“Besides, Father, what did I want to walk 
84 






“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


for, if they wouldn’t let me go to Mary?” 
She gave Mary another hug. “Oh, but it’s 
good to feel you again, Mary Contrary,” 
she said. 

“What does this mean?” said Father 
again. This time, he asked the little nurse, 
“Why were these Twins separated? Was 
it necessary?” 

Miss Russell flushed prettily. But 
she met Father’s blue-black gaze stead¬ 
ily. 

“Doctor’s orders, Mr. Dawson,” she said, 
shrugging her dainty, white shoulders. 
“He thought they would rest more and 
gain faster, apart.” 

“Rest them to be apart?” said Father. 
There was a grim twinkle in his eyes. “No 
one has ever been able to keep them apart. 
No wonder they’re sick.” 

“Pm not sick, Father,” said Mary. Her 
85 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


cheeks were pink with joy, and her eyes 
were bright. 

“I’m as well as anything,” said Rose, 
with a little bounce to prove it. Her 
cheeks were pinker than Mary’s and her 
eyes were brighter. 

“But you wouldn’t eat, darling,” said 
Aunt Rose, “and you weren’t one bit like 
yourself.” 

“I couldn’t eat,” said Rose. “How 
could I when I thought Mary was so sick?” 

“I couldn’t either,” said Mary quickly. 
“Oh, I was so worried over you, Rose. I 
thought all the time about that ‘Jill’ in Miss 
Alcott’s book and how she couldn’t walk.” 

“I thought of her, too,” said Rose. 

“The very worst of it was, Rosie,” said 
Mary, “I couldn’t talk things out with you.” 

“I know it,” said Rose. 

Just as usual, the Rosemary Twins went 
86 






“UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS” 


right on talking happily to each other, pay¬ 
ing no attention to the talk that went on 
about them. But somehow, Father, though 
he was talking to Aunt Rose and Miss Rus¬ 
sell, managed to hear all they said, too. 

“My Twins seem to be as much alike in¬ 
side as they are outside, Miss Russell,” he 
said. “And now I’m going to take charge 
of the case, myself. What ails Mary is 
chiefly lack of Rose. And what ails Rose 
is chiefly lack of Mary. Added to this, of 
course, is fright, exposure—all sorts of 
things they want to forget. Then comes 
lack of food, lack of sleep, and too much 
worry for two small blonde heads. Let’s 
have some bread and milk, go to bed and to 
sleep. To-morrow, I’ll explain things to 
the doctor.” 

“Mary and Rose shall sleep downstairs, 
please, Miss Russell,” he went on after he 
87 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


had talked a few minutes with Aunt Me¬ 
lissa while Rose and Mary creaked happily 
in the old chair. “And you in the little 
room next them. Then Rose can get a 
good night's rest up here. Don’t worry 
any more, Rose. You should have tele¬ 
phoned me sooner—that’s all. Mrs. Penny 
says I may sleep on the porch.” 

Hand in hand, the Rosemary Twins went 
downstairs. The dog limped along behind. 
All the others followed. Father and the 
Twins each had a bowl of bread and milk. 
The dog had a dish by himself. Every one 
ate the last drop and the last crumb. Then 
everybody went to bed and to sleep. And 
they all slept so late next morning, that the 
four little Pennies had to run all the way to 
school so as not to be late. 


88 






CHAPTER VI 


PINK GINGHAM AND SURGEON'S PLASTER 

I T was after the little Pennies had gone 
to school, that Father and the Rose¬ 
mary Twins went out on the porch to 
talk things all over together, from start to 
finish. The dog went along and lay as 
close to father’s feet as he could get. He 
had taken a great liking to Father, and 
Father had taken a great liking to him. 

The sky was gray and quiet. A soft 
wind, that smelled of rain, brought down 
the last of the apple blossoms in showers. 
The clean wholesome scent of lilacs 
drifted around the corner of the house. 
Father made Mary tell all she could re- 
89 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


member about the wreck to “get it off her 
mind,” he explained. 

“There was another thing that bothered 
us,” said Mary, “while we were apart, I 
mean, Father. Every one knew us apart. 
No one kept saying, ‘Now, let me see, which 
is Rose and which is Mary?’ ” 

Rose went off into peals of laughter 
at Mary’s wrinkled-up nose and prim 
mouth. 

“You’re the best actress, Mary,” she 
cried. I just know you’ll be in the ‘movies’ 
when you grow up, won’t she, Father? 
Doesn’t she look exactly like Billy Brown’s 
grandmother when she says that?” 

“But what I’d like to know,” said Father, 
“is why you did not ask some one about all 
these things that bothered you so—Aunt 
Rose, or that pretty little nurse?” 

“Those are things we just ask each other, 
90 







PINK GINGHAM 


Father,” explained Mary. “Aren’t they, 
Rose?” 

“Of course,” said Rose. “Unless you’re 
around, Father. Aunt Rose is too pretty 
to be bothered, you know,” she added. 
“And Aunt Mary is too busy. And 
Miss Russell we don’t know very well, 
yet.” 

“Sometimes,” said Father, staring at the 
two solemn, little faces side by side on the 
pillows of the old lounge, “I wonder 
whether there ever were or ever will be 
any other Twins like mine.” 

Mr. John Dawson had never had much 
use for his Twin daughters until they were 
ten years old. He liked boys better than 
girls, and up to that time, had not hesi¬ 
tated to say so. Then, through their efforts 
to get an education at the Sugar River 
school, he became acquainted with them, 
91 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


and decided that Twin daughters like his 
were not found every day. 

“Don’t we look alike any more, Father?” 
asked Mary, after a long minute of silence. 

Father threw back his handsome blonde 
head and laughed. Few people beside his 
Twins ever heard Father laugh. Most peo¬ 
ple thought him a stern, quiet sort of man. 

“Not exactly,” he said. 

Rose and Mary stared at each other. It 
had sometimes been tiresome when people 
did not know them apart, but what would 
it be like if they always did? 

“See here,” said Father, reading their 
thoughts. “If a Mary-Twin wears a blue 
sort of thing—” 

“It’s Lissy Penny’s bathrobe,” explained 
Mary. She looked at the faded blue gar¬ 
ment as if she saw it for the first time. 

“And blue bows on her braids—” 

92 






PINK GINGHAM 


“Trixy’s doll loaned those,” said Mary. 

“And the Rose-Twin has on a pinkish 
garment—” 

“Lissy’s kimono,” said Rose. 

“With pink bows.” 

“Trixy’s hair ribbons,” said Rose. 

“Besides all of which, if one Twin was 
upstairs and one Twin was downstairs, any 
one could tell them apart, couldn’t he?” 

“Why, of course, Father,” cried Mary, 
much relieved. “How silly we were, 
Rose.” 

“We never once thought anything about 
what we wore,” cried Rose, “or anything 
like that, did we, Mary?” 

At that very minute, the same thought 
leaped into both blonde heads. Rose’s eyes 
twinkled at Mary, as they had not twinkled 
at anything in some days. And Mary’s 
twinkled back. 


93 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Let’s do it,” cried Rose. 

“Do what?” said Father. 

“Go upstairs,” said Rose, “and dress up 
in our new things.” 

“The ones Aunt Mary brought,” added 
Mary. “Then we’ll come down and see if 
Aunt Melissa and Miss Russell can tell us 
apart. Don’t you tell them which of us is 
which, will you, Father?” 

“I won’t know, myself,” said Father. 
“Let me see, though—maybe I will. I’m 
not going to tell how—that’s too good a 
secret to share even with Twin-daughters 
like you.” 

Aunt Rose came out just then. 

“Better go upstairs, Mary, and lie down 
for a little while,” she said. “And Rose 
must rest, too—in the parlor. They 
mustn’t get too tired, John. That doctor 
will make a dreadful fuss.” 


94 






PINK GINGHAM 


“May we both go upstairs in Lissy Pen¬ 
ny’s room for a little while?” asked Mary. 

Father nodded. 

“Well,” said Aunt Rose, doubtfully. 

“I didn’t say we’d lie down,” said Mary, 
anxiously on the way upstairs. “But Aunt 
Rose thinks we’re going to, Rose.” 

“Father knows,” said Rose comfortably. 
“And after we surprise them, we’ll lie down 
till noon, Mary.” 

“Isn’t it good to be doing things together 
again, Rosie-Posie?” cried Mary. 

“I can’t believe these are the same things 
we saw yesterday,” said Rose, tumbling the 
new things about in the box. 

“Neither can I,” said Mary. “They 
didn’t look even pretty yesterday, and to¬ 
day, they’re lovely.” 

On went new underclothes, stockings, and 
oxfords. Hurrying fingers tied crisp black 
95 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


hair bows in the place of the borrowed ones. 
Over all, breathlessly, they put the pink- 
checked ginghams. 

Then two little girls peered anxiously in 
Lissy Penny’s old mirror. 

“Oh,” cried Mary. Her hand flew 
straight to the red mark on her forehead. 
“I never once thought, Rose. Any one can 
tell us apart now.” 

“Why didn’t I have one, too?” cried Rose. 
She felt of her own smooth forehead. 
“Wait, Mary, I know what we’ll do.” She 
giggled excitedly. 

A few minutes later, arms around each 
other, out on the porch of the Penny Bank, 
came the Rosemary Twins. The little 
group sitting there, in the center of which 
was the little doctor, looked up quickly. 

Father grinned. 

“What’s all this?” cried the little doctor, 
96 






PINK GINGHAM 


testily. He had just assured Father that 
he would have no difficulty whatever in tell¬ 
ing his patients apart. 

Just at this very minute, at the top of the 
porch steps, arrived the four little Pennies, 
accompanied by the dog. 

“We’re Rosemary Dawson,” cried the 
Rosemary Twins. Rosemary Dawson was 
the name they always used when they spoke 
of themselves together. 

“Which is Rose?” said one. 

“And which is Mary?” said the other. 

“The one with the cut is Mary,” chuckled 
Father. 

“Pick her out, please, kind sir,” laughed 
the Twins going up to him. 

Across each forehead ran a jagged piece 
of Aunt Rose’s surgeon plaster. Aunt 
Rose, who had been near tears of joy when 
she saw her beloved Twins looking like 
97 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


themselves again, nearly had hysterics when 
she saw the patches. 

The little doctor stared at them over his 
great spectacles. 

“You can walk, then?” he said sud¬ 
denly. 

And before she thought at all, Rose an¬ 
swered. 

“Of course I can, doctor,” she said. 

Every one laughed but the doctor. He 
went right on talking to Rose. 

“Better take the plaster off your fore¬ 
head then,” he said. And the next minute, 
he added, “So you didn’t like my treatment, 
eh?” 

“We didn’t like being apart, doctor,” 
said Mary, anxiously. 

“You didn’t let us get well fast enough,” 
said Rose. 

“Well, don’t try getting well too fast,” 
98 





PINK GINGHAM 


said the doctor, testily. But the Twins 
were quite sure his fine, old eyes twinkled 
at them, through his great spectacles. 
“That’s all I’ve got to say.” And away he 
floundered to his waiting car. 

“I like your little doctor,” said Father 
slowly, as the fussy little car went down the 
hill. “He did just right to keep you quiet, 
Twinnies. Rose was hit on her spine, 
somehow; and things might have been se¬ 
rious for her. And Mary’s nerves were 
hit; and things might have been serious 
for her. The only thing I wouldn’t have 
done—I wouldn’t have tried to separate 
Twins.” 

“Probably he doesn’t know much about 
Twins, Father,” said Mary. 

“Rosemary Twins,” added Rose, laugh¬ 
ing. “I suppose we are queer, Mary.” 

“I would suggest, Mr. Dawson,” said 
99 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


the little nurse, “that even Rosemary Twins 
will need a nap right after dinner.” 

“Dinner?” cried Rose. “Is it dinner 
time?” 

“Where has the morning gone to?” said 
Mary. 


100 






CHAPTER VII 


JINNY 


F ATHER decided to stay at the 
Penny Bank until Monday, and 
take his Twins home with him. 
So far as Rose and Mary could remember, 
this was the first visit, more than a day 
long, that he had ever made with them. 
Father didn’t like to make visits, but he 
really seemed to enjoy every minute of this 
one. 

Rose and Mary almost lived on the old 
porch. They slept and ate and ate and 
slept, until even the little doctor was satis¬ 
fied with their recovery. He came every 
day and, although he was just as gruff as 
101 


MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


ever, the Twins caught more than one 
twinkle in his eyes. 

“He’s something like the Fritz dog,” 
said Rose to Mary. “He looks dreadfully 
fierce and his voice is gruff, but he’s really 
a good friend to you.” 

“He’s a good friend to me,” said Mary. 
“He’s taken such good care of my forehead, 
Rosie, he told me to-day there wouldn’t be 
any scar.” 

Miss Russell gave her patients what lit¬ 
tle care they needed. She read to them 
and told them stories. She planned quiet 
games for them to play with the little Pen¬ 
nies. She became so much one of the fam¬ 
ily that the Rosemary Twins told Father 
they simply couldn’t get along without her. 

Aunt Rose had stopped crying, and was 
her own sunny, blue-eyed self again. She 
spent much time planning the furnishings 
102 






JINNY 


of her new bungalow, which, Father said, 
was nearly done. 

Aunt Melissa was always busy and 
cheery. She said it seemed good to have 
the old house full to overflowing again. 

As for the dog, he had quite recovered. 
When he wanted to be noticed, he held up 
the foot that had been hurt and looked dole¬ 
ful. Lissy Penny wrote that in a week or 
two she and Father would come home for 
over Sunday. And if the dog were Fritz, 
they would take him back to Joe. 

Sunday was a wonderful day with orioles 
singing overhead, dandelions shining under¬ 
foot, and sunshine everywhere. The Twins 
took Father and Miss Russell to the little 
pine tree hollow where they had spent the 
night after the wreck. The two little trees 
still clasped hands, but the pretty pink 
flowers were all gone. 

103 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Next morning, every one was up bright 
and early. The Twins were so excited at 
the thought of going home that they 
couldn’t do much to help. But Aunt Rose 
attended to the luggage, Aunt Melissa 
packed lunch boxes and filled thermos bot¬ 
tles with hot coffee and iced milk, Father 
and Larry attended to the cars, and Miss 
Russell flew about helping everywhere. It 
had been decided that she should go home 
with them for a few days. 

The four little Pennies were busy too. 
They had heard many a tale of Fritz’s fre¬ 
quent runaways in the days of his wild 
youth—and even later. Now, they were 
filled with a terrible fear that at the last 
minute he would take it into that funny, 
old head of his to disappear with the cars. 
They talked it over and decided to prevent 
it. Bob found an old collar and to this 
104 






JINNY 


he fastened a stout rope. The rope was 
now passed around Trixy’s stout, little 
waist and she held it firmly with both 
hands. Next it went around Pet, then 
around Bert, and last of all around Bob. 

Sure enough, when the cars started off, 
the dog started, too. With him, stumbling 
along, all screaming and clutching at the 
rope, started the four little Pennies. This, 
with Aunt Melissa in the background, wav¬ 
ing a friendly hand, was the last view the 
Rosemary Twins had of the Penny Bank. 
So they rounded the corner in a gale of 
laughter. 

“Mary,” said Rose, solemnly, as they 
reached the highway, “aren’t you glad the 
train was wrecked?” 

“I suppose I must be, Rosie,” said Mary. 
“I’m surely glad we know the Penny Bank 
and the Pennies.” 


105 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“And Miss Russell,” said Rose. 

They had lunch in a grove of evergreens 
where a merry, little stream made things 
cool and refreshing. It was the jolliest 
kind of a picnic. Even Father seemed to 
have a good time. They rested awhile 
after lunch, then they set out again. Miss 
Russell, who had been riding in the little 
car with Father, changed places with the 
Twins. For, they said, they must be with 
him when they arrived home. 

By and by from one of the many hilltops, 
they caught sight of the little town nestled 
down in a pretty river valley. The river, 
itself, was just a thread of silver in the 
green of the fields. 

“There’s Laura Lee’s house,” cried Rose, 
as they came on to the main street of the 
village. She said it quite as if, in a year’s 
time, it might be expected that Laura’s sub- 
106 






JINNY 


stantial home had crumbled into dust. 

“And Polly Ames’s snuggled down in the 
hollow. Oh! I can’t wait to see them,” 
said Mary. 

“There’s Polly this minute,” cried Rose. 
“And Norah’s with her. Oh, Father, they 
don’t know us—do please stop just a min¬ 
ute.” 

Father stopped just in time, it would 
seem, to prevent a Twin or two from tum¬ 
bling out of the car. And Polly caught 
sight of them and screamed at them. 
Norah screamed, too, and both came run¬ 
ning up to the car. 

“Wasn’t the wreck perfectly dreadful?” 
Polly was saying. And, “Have you seen 
your Aunt’s bungalow?” tumbled out after 
it; while Norah reached up to hug them 
both and say, “Oh, but it’s good to see you 
again, Rosemary Dawson.” 

107 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Tales of the wreck, and the Twins’ part 
in it, had been town talk in Sugar River 
for several days. It was no wonder that, 
from all sides, hands waved in welcome and 
good wishes pelted them. 

“See the schoolhouse, Rose,” cried Mary, 
a few minutes later. “Doesn’t it look just 
like an old friend?” 

“Norah’s grown so pretty,” Rose was 
saying, excitedly. “Oh! there’s Billy. 
Billy!” she cried. 

The car had to stop again, while they 
greeted Billy Brown. Then it dashed on 
to overtake the big one waiting for it at the 
end of the street. 

“Look, Twinnies,” cried Aunt Rose, as 
they came up. “Away over there, through 
the trees. There’s our bungalow.” 

Sure enough, beyond the little town, the 
108 






JINNY 


Twins could just see some shining new 
roofs. 

“Which hill, Mr. Dawson?’’ Larry was 
asking. 

“Straight ahead,” said Father. He 
dashed by the big car. Away they went, 
up, up, till it seemed that he had decided 
to run straight into the blue sky, taking his 
Twins along with him. But instead, turn¬ 
ing to the left, he went into a big, shady 
yard surrounding a neat farmhouse. All 
its doors and windows were wide open to 
the sweep of fresh, sweet winds that came 
down from still higher hills. In the front 
yard, were a few late tulips, plenty of pan¬ 
sies, and rosebushes covered with tiny, hard 
buds. 

On the porch stood a little* bent old 
woman and a tall, slim, straight little girl. 

109 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Cynthy,” screamed Rosemary Dawson. 
Both Twins landed on the porch. Four 
arms went around the little, bent, old 
woman who had been their nurse and house¬ 
keeper ever since they could remember any¬ 
thing. 

Then while Cynthy turned to greet Aunt 
Rose and meet Miss Russell, Rose and 
Mary turned with slow recognition to the 
tall, slim, little girl. Her very red hair 
was parted in the middle and braided in 
two long, straggly braids. It gave her a 
funny, prim, old-fashioned look, but her 
gray eyes were friendly and eager. 

“Is it really—Jinny Mason?” cried Mary. 

“Where are you growing to?” said Rose. 

“I’ve been at it ten years or so,” said the 
little girl, briskly. 

She had the air of being, at least, fifteen. 

“Don’t it beat all?” she went on, de- 
110 






JINNY 


lighted with the surprise her presence had 
caused. “I’m almost as tall as you are. 
Well, you see, Cynthy had to have some one 
’round to help—your Aunt coming and all 
and you two sort of used up. And she 
thought of me. So she sent Jake after me. 
Mums could spare me now. I’m going to 
school down to the village and I help out 
before and after. I can do most every¬ 
thing.” 

“This is Jinny Mason, Aunt Rose and 
Miss Russell,” said Mary, as Aunt Rose 
turned from Cynthy. “We used to know 
her when she was a little girl.” 

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” said 
Jinny to Aunt Rose. And, “Pleased to meet 
you, ma’am,” she added to the little nurse. 
She dipped her red head, in what she con¬ 
sidered the best style. 

“But, please, call me Virginia,” she whis- 
111 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


pered to the Twins as they all went into the 
house. “Jinny’s so childish.” 

“Weil,” said Rose. 

“If we can remember,” said Mary. 
“Where are John ’n’ the baby?” she asked. 
“I keep looking around for them. I can’t 
think of one of you, without all three.” 

“John’s a big boy,” said Jinny. “And 
Barbie isn’t the baby—there’s another one 
now. He’s named Dawson, after you,” she 
added, proudly. 

“Rosemary Dawson has a namesake,” 
cried Rose. “Isn’t that wonderful?” 

“Dawson Mason,” said Mary, trying the 
names doubtfully. 

“We couldn’t name him Rosemary—him 
being a boy,” explained Jinny. “And wei 
were just set on namin’ him for you, some 
way.” 

“You were so funny and naughty that 
112 






JINNY 


winter, Jinny—I mean Virginia,” said 
Mary. “Do you remember about it?” 

“You bet,” said Jinny. “We went some¬ 
where on the train. And stayed all night. 
Wasn’t that some house?” 

“Aunt Mary Craig’s,” said Mary. 

“Jinny,” came Cynthy’s voice from the 
kitchen. 

“Got to go help take up supper,” said 
Jinny. “I’ll bet you’re hungry.” 

The talk during supper, and afterward 
on the porch, was almost all of the new 
bungalow. 

“I do wish John would come and stay 
with us there all summer,” said Aunt Rose. 
“Your Father isn’t just what I’d call social, 
Twinnies.” 

“He’s just Father,” said Rose. 

“We like him best just as he is,” said 
Mary. 


113 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Aunt Rose laughed. 

“But I want a bungalow party,” she.said. 

“We’ll come,” said the Twins, promptly. 

“But you and I can’t fill up seven bed¬ 
rooms besides sleeping porches,” said Aunt 
Rose. 

“Miss Russell,” cried Mary, “won’t 
she come, Aunt Rose?” 

“By and by,” said Aunt Rose. “For a 
few days. But I want a whole big party 
of boys and girls to stay several weeks. 
Wouldn’t that be fun?” 

“Yes,” said Mary, doubtfully. She 
looked at Rose. Rose looked back. 

“Mary and I like it just by ourselves,” 
she said. 

“Well, you’re not going to be just by 
yourselves this summer,” said Aunt Rose. 
“Not if I can help it. I’m going to have 
a bungalow party.” 


114 






CHAPTER VIII 


LETTERS FROM MARJORY 


T HE new bungalow stood at the 
end of a long drive, edged on 
both sides by maples. In front, 
and on the west side, a beautiful lawn, 
shaded by tall elms sloped away to the 
river, which wound about in silver loops, 
showing here and there through the trees. 
On the east side, a path led under an arch, 
down some steps into a wonderful old gar¬ 
den. The path led through the garden 
branching off into many smaller ones. 
Then it climbed some steps under another 
arch, ran away across a rustic bridge, and 
lost itself in the woods. In the early 
spring, the lawn had been dotted with cro- 
115 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


cus cups. Now, here and there, were 
clumps of large, single, dark blue violets. 

Through her brother, Aunt Rose had 
bought the place. She had left the 
grounds about as they were. But the old 
house had been taken down and a new one 
put up. The architect, who was a friend 
of hers, had built it just as she wanted 
it. 

It was not really a bungalow, but because 
Aunt Rose had set out at first to have a 
bungalow, she still called it so. And be¬ 
cause she called it a bungalow, every one 
else did, too, probably always would. It 
had two stories, almost surrounded on three 
sides by porches. On the west, right up in 
the tree tops, was a tower, and in this tower 
was the most delightful room, all windows. 
And the best thing about it was, it could be 
reached by an outside stairway. 

116 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 


“Do you suppose we can have that 
room?” whispered Mary to Rose. 

It was the morning after their home-com¬ 
ing. Larry and the big car had brought 
them, with Aunt Rose, to see the new bun¬ 
galow. They had been over the grounds, 
and now the Twins followed Aunt Rose 
from one big, bright room to another, while 
she measured walls, windows, and floors. 

“Why not, Mary?” giggled Rose. 
“Aunt Rose has picked out her own room, 
and so far she hasn’t any guests except us.” 

There were so many things to see out¬ 
doors and indoors, that it was noon, and 
dinner was waiting, when they reached the 
farmhouse on the hill top. After dinner, 
Miss Russell and Aunt Rose went upstairs 
to take naps, and Mary and Rose went to 
sleep on the porch in their twin hammocks. 
When they awoke, Aunt Rose was just corn- 
117 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


ing out of the house, her hands full of let¬ 
ters. One fell to the floor. Rose and 
Mary both sprang to get it. Rose caught 
it and gave it to Aunt Rose. It was a 
small, yellow letter with a gold monogram. 

While Aunt Rose read her letters, the 
Twins sat facing each other in their ham¬ 
mocks. They were trying to decide 
whether to put on their pink ginghams or 
their blue linens. 

“I feel just like pink, Mary,” said Rose. 

“I feel more like blue,” said Mary. 

“You don’t look like blue, Mary Con¬ 
trary. Let’s wear the pink to-day and the 
blue to-morrow,” said Rose. 

“Well,” said Mary, slowly. 

It never once occurred to either of the 
Rosemary Twins that Rose could wear pink 
and Mary blue. 

In the midst of the pink and blue discus- 
118 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 


sion, Aunt Rose laughed softly. Now, she 
looked up from the letter she was reading. 

“Do listen to this, Twinnies,” she said. 
“It’s quite too good to happen anywhere 
outside of a story book.” 

Then she began reading the yellow letter 
aloud. 

“Dear Aunt Rose,” said the yellow let¬ 
ter. 

The Rosemary Twins forgot all about 
pink gingham and blue linen. In an in¬ 
stant they were at Aunt Rose’s side, look¬ 
ing over her shoulder. They hadn’t sup¬ 
posed that there was any one in the world 
anywhere, who had the right to call their 
Aunt Rose, “Dear Aunt Rose.” 

“You won’t know anything about me 
maybe” (went on the yellow letter, quite 
as if its writer was talking to them), “but 
Daddy has just told me all about you—all 
he knows, anyway. And that’s so good I’m 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


writing to find out more. Please don’t 
think I’m curious—it isn’t that. Somehow, 
I just love to discover relatives. Two years 
ago, 1 discovered a sister and brother I 
didn’t know were mine at all. 

“Last summer, I discovered a whole 
houseful of grandmothers. But all these 
relatives belonged to my own mother whom 
I never knew. You see she died when I 
was born, and I was adopted away from my 
own father. Well, to-day, I began think¬ 
ing about my little adopted Mamma. 

“She didn’t live many years after she took 
me. But she loved me, Daddy says, just 
exactly like her own baby. And I said to 
Daddy, ‘Didn’t Mamma have any relatives 
who would be mine, too?’ And Daddy 
said, Mamma had a sister much younger 
than she was and that you are the sister. 
Of course, I can’t come ’way out to Cali¬ 
fornia to discover you. I’d love to—I just 
love to go to new places, but Daddy needs 
me. So does Roger. Roger’s guardian is 
a Canadian and he’s in the war, so Roger 
is staying with us. He isn’t blind, and he’s 
going to see all right sometime, but he can’t 
see very well now and his eyes pain him. 
So he can’t spare me. But won’t you please 
come here to New York just as soon as you 
can? Daddy wants you to, too. We have 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 


a lovely home. I shall hope to hear from 
you just as soon as this letter can get to you 
and one can get back to me. And do say 
you will come—please. I’ve never had a 
really-truly aunt—just some great-aunts. 

“Yours, wanting-to-know-you-very-much, 
“Marjory.” 

“P. S. Isn’t it too funny, Aunt Rose? But 
it’s just exactly like me. I’ve never told 
you Mamma’s name. It was Louise Daw¬ 
son.” 

“What a darling letter,” cried Aunt 
Rose. “What a dear, little thing she must 
be. Marjory — my own sister’s little 
adopted daughter. Why didn’t we know 
about this when we were in New York?” 

Rose’s round, blue eyes were staring 
straight into Mary’s. Mary’s were staring 
straight back. Each pair of eyes had big 
blue question marks in them, but neither 
Twin said a word. 

“What beautiful paper,” went on Aunt 
Rose. “See, Twinnies, the pretty mono- 
121 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


gram—M. L. B. And just look at the post¬ 
marks. The letter’s been all the way to 
California, following us from place to 
place, all the way back again. Poor little 
dear—what will she think?” 

“Is this Marjory girl your real niece, 
Aunt Rose?” asked Rose. 

“She’ll seem just, the same,” said Aunt 
Rose, happily. “Louise lost her own little 
baby and took Marjory when she was only 
a few days old. Tve forgotten what her 
real name was—if I ever knew it.” 

“She says her mother’s name was Daw¬ 
son,” said Mary. “That’s our name, Aunt 
Rose. Is she our cousin?” 

“Why, of course,” said Aunt Rose. 
“Your father just worshiped her mother. 
He’s never been quite the same since she 
died. And isn’t it lovely—Marjory will 
be our first guest for the bungalow party?” 

122 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 

“She says she can’t leave that Roger boy,’' 
said Mary. 

“She can bring him,” said Aunt Rose. 
“There’s plenty of room, you know. I’m 
going upstairs now and write her to come.” 

The Twins went slowly back to their 
hammocks. They sat down and faced each 
other soberly. Bees buzzed and boomed 
in the honeysuckle bush. From afar came 
the sound of Father’s busy lawn mower. 
Inside the old house, Jinny chattered to 
Cynthy. The sky was blue and hot like 
June. The Twins had forgotten all about 
pink gingham and blue linen. 

“Well?” said Rose, at last. 

“Well?” said Mary. 

“I know I’m not going to like her,” said 
Rose firmly. 

“Neither am I,” said Mary. “And it r s 
dreadful not to like your own cousin, Rose.” 

123 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“We can’t even tell Father we don’t like 
her,” said Rose. 

“Oh no,” said Mary, quickly. “We 
mustn’t ever, ever let any one know, Rose.” 

Miss Russell came out just then, fresh 
and rosy and full of the news of a new 
cousin. And almost at once, Father came 
up and sat down, too. 

“Louise’s little daughter,” he said, when 
Rose and Mary, talking together and helped 
out by Miss Russell, had told him about 
the letter. For a moment he did not seem 
to see his Rosemary Twins. His eyes 
looked back into some past that they had 
never known. 

Rose and Mary looked at each other. 
Oh no, it would never do to tell Father they 
did not like the new cousin, when the very 
thought of her made his eyes so blue and 
tender. They must never let any one know. 

124 





LETTERS FROM MARJORY 

“You’ll love her, little daughters,” he 
said, his eyes coming back to them. “I 
think I’m going to, myself.” 

“But you don’t like girls, Father,” Mary 
reminded him, anxiously. 

“I didn’t like girls,” corrected Father, 
“until my Rosemary Twins taught me to 
love—two. Now, I find it quite easy to 
love—others.” 

“Supper’s ready,” announced a red¬ 
cheeked Jinny from the doorway. 
“It’s pancakes, and you’ll have to hustle 
up.” 

At the supper table, between mouthfuls 
of hot pancakes and delicious maple sirup, 
Aunt Rose told what she had written to 
Marjory. She had explained why Mar¬ 
jory’s letter had been so long in finding her. 
She told about the new bungalow that was 
just aching for a party. 

125 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“You must come and bring Roger” (she 
had written). “And if you have some other 
little friends you would like to invite, we’d 
love to have you. The bungalow will be 
all ready the first of July. But write me 
soon all about who will come. Then I 
can think about them and plan their rooms 
and get acquainted with them a little. I’d 
love that—and so would my nieces.” 


She signed herself “With love for my 
little new niece.” Then she added a post 
script. It said, 


“By the way, these little Twin nieces of 
mine are your cousins. Their father is 
John Dawson—your mother’s only brother. 
Your father will remember him. He lives 
here in this farmhouse I’ve written you 
about.” 

When she came to address her letter, 
Aunt Rose found her new niece had not 
once told who she was, except that she was 
Marjory. 


126 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 

“Niece Marjory is careless like her 
adopted Aunt Rose,” she said. “It’s for¬ 
tunate, John, that we know her father’s 
name.” 

“Every one knows David Brook,” said 
Father. 

“Why haven’t you ever looked him up, 
John?” asked Aunt Rose. 

“I left him to do the looking,” said 
Father, “if he cared to.” After a minute, 
he added, “Rose, don’t let my Rosemary 
Twins grow to be as unsocial as their old 
father, will you?” 

“That’s one reason I want a bungalow 
party, John,” laughed Aunt Rose. “Just 
wait and see what a summerful of young¬ 
sters will do for them.” 

As soon as a letter could go to New York, 
be read, answered, and the answer get back 
to the Sugar River farmhouse, another yel- 
127 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


low letter arrived from Marjory. Aunt 
Rose read it aloud, a Rosemary Twin on 
each side of her, and all the others listen¬ 
ing. 


“You dear Aunt Rose” (it began). 
“Your letter sounds just exactly the way I 
wanted it to. And Daddy and I are so 
pleased to hear from you and to find you’re 
so near us. Of course, I’ll come to your 
bungalow party—it sounds like quite the de- 
lightful-est kind of a party. I’m just wild 
to know my little Twin cousins. But do 
let’s all agree right now not to say anything 
more about the adopted part. I couldn’t 
love my Daddy any more if he was my 
really-truly father. And it will be just the 
same with you all—Aunt Rose, Cousin 
Mary, Cousin Rose, and Uncle John. 
Don’t they sound good? 

“It’s dear of you to ask Roger to come. 
And aren’t you lovely to tell me to bring 
some of my friends? First of all, there’s 
my sister—the one I discovered two years 
ago. She’ll come if she can be spared— 
she’s always so busy. Then, I’d like to ask 
a little girl named Susy Morris. She lives 
near my Grandmother Beach’s. I’d like 
128 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 


to ask Joel Bernard, too. And Betty Blake 
and the Martie Twins—wouldn’t it be fun 
to have two pairs of twins in one house? 
And Nancy Spindle, if she’ll come. That 
makes seven besides Roger and me. I’ve 
some other very dear friends—Effie and 
John and David Clover and Anne Story 
and two Story babies. But maybe that will 
make too many. Daddy says no bungalow 
would hold us all. Do write and tell me. 
I love to get letters from you, Aunt Rose. 
Daddy sends his love. He says you were 
just a little girl when he married your sis¬ 
ter. 

“Your loving, 
“Marjory. 

“P. S. Won’t you please send me your pic¬ 
ture, Aunt Rose? So I can know exactly 
how you look. I can’t wait till I see you.” 

Aunt Rose had a good laugh over Mar¬ 
jory’s letter. Right in the midst of the 
laugh, she sat down to answer it. “I’m 
going to tell her to bring every single one,” 
she said. “We’ll find room for them some¬ 
where.” 


129 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


The Rosemary Twins went slowly out to 
the big swing. When they had been little 
girls, a woodpile had stood there. When 
things went wrong, they had often come to 
this woodpile and sat on chunks of wood 
to talk things over. The woodpile wasn’t 
there any more, but father had put up a 
swing just the size for both Twins, to mark 
the place. 

“We’d do it, if we liked her, Mary,” 
said Rose. 

“But we don’t like her,” said Mary. 

“Well we jught to, Mary, and you know 
it.” 

“But we don’t,” said Mary, “so how can 
we write and say we do?” 

“We needn’t say anything about it,” said 
Rose. “We’ll just tell her about Aunt 
Rose.” 

“All right,” said Mary. They went 
130 






LETTERS FROM MARJORY 


slowly back to the porch. Aunt Rose had 
just finished her letter. 

“May we add a postscript, please?” 
asked Rose. 

Writing her very best, Mary began the 
postscript. 

“Aunt Rose is as young and pretty as she 
can be” (she wrote). “You’ll love her.” 

Then Rose added—and no one could tell 
where Mary left off and she began— 


“She has lovely, fluffy, light hair that 
wants to curl and does curl around her face. 
And she has big, blue eyes and likes to 
laugh and have a good time.” 

Mary went on, 

“She wears blue things most of the time 
to match her eyes. We are writing this to¬ 
gether. 

“Rosemary Dawson.” 

131 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Another yellow letter came back speed¬ 
ily, addressed to “Miss Rosemary Dawson.” 


“There hasn’t been time yet” (it said), 
“to get answers to all the invitations. But 
I’m writing to ask you something. Are 
you the Twins who look so much alike no¬ 
body ever can tell them apart? I’m sure 
you are because you sign yourself ‘Rosemary 
Dawson.’ I saw your pictures once at 
Susy Morris’s. Oh, I’m just breathless 
with excitement. Just think of my discov¬ 
ering you! No wonder Joey calls me 
‘Story Book Marjory’—such wonderful 
things do happen to me. You’ll love Joey. 
He has names for everybody. He calls 
Susy ‘Black-eyed Susan.’ ” 


“That’s Susy Morris who visited us in 
California,” said Rose. ' Didn’t she have 
the blackest eyes?” 

“I know I’m not going to like Joe,” said 
Mary, so dolefully that Rose and Aunt 
Rose both laughed. 


13 ? 





CHAPTER IX 


THE BUNGALOW THAT WASN’T A 
BUNGALOW 


E ARLY in June, Miss Russell went 
away, promising to come to the 
bungalow party sometime in July. 
“It does seem as if June is the shortest 
month in the whole year,” said Rose, one 
day late in June, “even if it does have the 
longest days in it.” 

“I know it,” said Mary. 

They were spending a day with Aunt 
Rose at the bungalow. Some boxes of 
chintzes and cretonnes and other fascinat¬ 
ing materials had come from the city. 
Some of the downstairs rooms were already 
nearly settled, others were not touched. It 
133 


MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


was the same upstairs. But Aunt Rose was 
perfectly happy in the midst of all the con¬ 
fusion. 

It was the most wonderful house—that 
bungalow that wasn’t a bungalow. Down¬ 
stairs, there was a long living room with 
an alcove on the west side and a den on the 
other. The living room was furnished in 
shades of tan and brown with dashes of 
daring orange-red here and there to match 
the fire, Aunt Rose said, if ever there should 
be one needed in the big fireplace. The 
den was red, too. The kitchen was to be in 
blue and white, and the dining room was to 
be in soft tan and deep blue. 

Just now, they were all in the upstairs 
hall. It was a wonderful hall. The 
Twins kept forgetting that they were un¬ 
packing boxes and went for a walk up and 
down it. The stairs came up into it near 
134 




THE BUNGALOW 

Aunt Rose’s bedroom. Then it went the 
full length of the house, and at the far end, 
it broadened out delightfully to hold an 
open fireplace, on each side of which were 
built-in seats. 

Aunt Rose was putting the finishing 
touches to her room. It was furnished in 
blue, of course—blue that shimmered and 
shone, suggesting the blue of far hills and 
deep, still waters. Rose and Mary had 
picked out rose color for their room. It 
was next to Aunt Rose’s on the same side of 
the hall. Marjory’s was just across from 
Aunt Rose. There was to be a water-lily 
room, too, and a poppy room, and a green 
room. 

“There’s some lovely morning-glory 
chintz somewhere,” said Aunt Rose, pull¬ 
ing the chintzes about. “I’m going to 
make the little room under the tower room 

135 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


into a morning-glory room. Won’t that be 
pretty?” 

“Who’s going to sleep there?” asked 
Mary. 

“I haven’t any one left for it,” said Aunt 
Rose, “if Marjory’s sister sleeps with her, 
Betty with Martha, and Nancy with Susy.” 
She took her list of rooms and guests out 
of her apron pocket and began checking 
them up. “Roger has a room by himself 
—the one across from yours. And Joe and 
Martin are to have the downstairs sleeping- 
porch or the den, just as they like. Let’s 
see, we’ve heard from every one now, 
haven’t we?” 

“They’re all coming except the Clovers 
and that Anne Story and her babies,” said 
Rose. 

It had been fun reading the letters that 
had come from all the invited guests. And 
136 






THE BUNGALOW 

it had been quite easy to tell something 
about the writers from their letters. 
Roger’s had been so stiff and formal that 
Mary had decided he didn’t like girls one 
bit better than she did boys. Joe’s had 
been jolly and droll. Betty’s letter had 
been delightful and so had the one signed 
“Marjory’s Sister.” In her letter Susy had 
been eager to see Rosemary Dawson again. 
Nancy’s had been quaint, and the Martie 
Twins had been frankly curious about the 
other pair of twins. 

“Who is to have the tower room, Aunt 
Rose?” asked Mary. 

“That’s a secret yet,” said Aunt Rose, 
gayly. 

When every one is busy and happy, June 
does not last long. Almost before any one 
knew it, it was July. And then came the 
day that was to bring Marjory and Roger 
137 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


—the first guests—to the bungalow party. 

If that Tuesday had been made to order, 
it could not have been more perfect. It 
was all blue skies, turning to rose and gold 
and violet at sunset time. It was brim¬ 
ful of scents of sweet things everywhere. 

Marjory and Roger had been spending 
most of June with Marjory’s grandmother, 
so they would come on the train. Rose 
and Mary and Aunt Rose, who lived in the 
bungalow now, drove over to the railroad 
station in the car with Larry. And there 
was father from the farm in his funny little 
car. 

Rose and Mary held fast to each other. 
They were very quiet. Whenever Mary 
looked at Rose, she saw two big, blue ques¬ 
tion marks in Rose’s eyes. And whenever 
Rose looked at Mary, she saw two big, blue 
question marks in Mary’s eyes. 

138 






THE BUNGALOW 

“I feel queer, little prickles all over me,” 
whispered Mary. 

“There’s the train,” said Rose. “Mary 
Contrary, don’t you ever let any one know 
we don’t like Marjory.” 

Mary had just time to shake her blonde 
head violently, when the train came in. 
Almost at once, the Twins saw their new 
cousin. No one else in the crowd of peo¬ 
ple, getting off and on the train, could have 
written those yellow letters. She was all 
bronzy-brown from her pretty sailor hat 
to her stout, little boots. There was a fluff 
of gold hair under her hat and a flash of 
dark, dancing eyes below the gold. She 
reached them before they reached her, 
fairly flying toward them, and dragging 
Roger along, behind. 

“I just knew you were you, Aunt Rose,” 
she cried. “This is Aunt Rose. Roddy, 
139 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


And these are our Rosemary cousins. Oh 
dear, do you always look just exactly alike? 
Isn’t one of you the least bit different, some¬ 
where?” 

Both Twins shook their heads. 

“Well, Roddy,” laughed Marjory, “one’s 
Rose and one’s Mary—that’s all I can say.” 

“How do you do, Rosemary Dawson?” 
said Roger. A sudden smile quite changed 
his face. He held out a hand to each 
Twin. 

“And what about Uncle John?” said 
father, who had been waiting. 

“I saw you from the train,” said Marjory 
—she put out an eager little hand. “And 
I hoped you would be Uncle John.” 

Father attended to having the trunks sent 
to the bungalow. The three little girls and 
the hand luggage went in the back of the 
big car, with Aunt Rose on the front seat. 

140 







THE BUNGALOW 

Roger rode in the little car with father. 
And Polly saw them and told Norah, and 
Norah ran over to tell Laura, and Laura 
telephoned Billy, and Billy told the other 
boys that Rosemary Dawson’s cousins had 
come. And before night really settled 
down, every one in the little town knew 
about it. 

“Isn’t this lovely?” cried Marjory, as the 
car swept up the broad drive toward the 
bungalow. She flew out of the car, up the 
steps, and across the porch, a Twin hopping 
and skipping on either side to keep up with 
her. 

“Margie never just plain walks,” said 
Roger, as he, Aunt Rose, Father and part of 
the luggage came behind. “She always 
dances or flies.” 

The three little girls were waiting in the 
doorway when the others came up. 

141 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“It’s going to be another story book sum¬ 
mer, Roddy,” cried Marjory, twirling 
about on her tiptoes. “I just know it is. 
Isn’t it lovely to have everything so new? 
I’ve always visited in old houses before. 
Grandma Beach’s is just full of old colo¬ 
nial things—you’d love it, Aunt Rose. But 
I love this new-all-over feeling, too. Don’t 
you, Roddy?” 

She exclaimed with delight all the way 
upstairs and began all over again when she 
saw her room. 

“All yellow?” she cried. “How did you 
know about my color? From my letters? 
And is Roddy going to sleep in all these 
poppies? Won’t you have sweet dreams, 
Roddy?” 

The boy’s strange, dark face brightened. 

“It’s great, Mar,” he said. 

Supper was served a few minutes later 
142 







THE BUNGALOW 

on the porch opening from the dining room. 

“I never saw so much porch to one house 
before,” cried Marjory, who had exclaimed 
all the way downstairs and through the 
living room. “And there’s a garden, 
Roddy, with a sundial. And there's 
a bridge.” 

“There’s a tower room on the other side 
of the house,” said one of the Twins. 

“With a real outside stairway,” said the 
other. 

“Aunt Rose has the key and she won’t let 
us in yet,” said the first one. 

Marjory stared at the Twins opposite 
her. 

“I wish I could tell you apart,” she said. 
“How did you ever think of so many lovely 
things to put together in one house, Aunt 
Rose?” she asked, in the next breath. 

Aunt Rose smiled at her new niece. 

143 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“To tell you the truth/’ she said, “when 
I was a little girl I dreamed of just such a 
house—a big, big house in a big yard, with 
flowers and porches and secret rooms, just 
brimming over with good times and boys 
and girls.” 

“What a beautiful dream,” cried Mar¬ 
jory. “And I’m so glad it’s come true, 
Aunt Rose, and that I’m in it.” 

■ 4 

It was late that night before Rose and 
Mary found themselves alone in their own 
room. Sitting down among their rosy 
chintzes, they stared at each other. 

“Well?” said Rose. 

“Well?” said Mary. 

“She is pretty,” said Rose. 

Mary nodded. 

“And I never saw such pretty clothes,” 
said Rose. 

Again Mary nodded. 

144 






THE BUNGALOW 

“But she isn’t stuck up or everything,” 
she said. 

“No,” said Rose. 

“What I don’t see,” said Mary, slowly, 
“is where I’ve seen her before, Rosie.” 

“She looks just like some one we’ve seen, 
Mary,” said Rose. 

“Maybe,” said Mary, doubtfully. 

They undressed and went to bed. R(jge 
was almost asleep, when Mary spoke again. 

“I’ve seen her somewhere,” she said, 
“but I can’t think where.” 


145 






CHAPTER X 


THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

S OON after breakfast next morning, 
Larry and the car appeared at the 
steps of the porch to take the Rose¬ 
mary Twins, Marjory and Roger to the 
Dawson farmhouse. Aunt Rose would be 
busy in the tower room all the morning, she 
said, so she couldn’t go with them. 

“There’s Uncle John,” cried Marjory, as 
the car made the steep grade into the yard. 
“But who is that quaint, red-headed little 
girl on the porch, Rosemary Dawson?” 

“That’s Jinny Mason,” said Rose. “She’s 
staying with Cynthy this summer.” 

“Virginia, these are our new cousins, 
146 


THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

Marjory and Roger,” said Mary, as they 
all trooped up the steps. 

“Please to meet you, Rogery and Mo- 
ger,” said Jinny. Every one laughed— 
Jinny loudest of all when she saw her 
funny mistake. She was really quite over¬ 
powered by the elegance of the new 
little girl. But “she put her best foot 
forward,” as she told Cynthy afterward. 
“Cynthy’s in the kitchen, making cookies,” 
she announced, her red head held 
high. 

Four little folks descended upon Cynthy 
in the old kitchen. Munching crisp, mo¬ 
lasses cookies, they set out with Father to 
see the farm. Marjory went wild over the 
swing; and Father, himself, sent her flying 
up, up, up into the branches of the apple 
tree. Then they visited the pasture, the 
meadow and the orchard. When they 
147 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


came back to the porch, Marjory couldn’t 
find her hat. 

“I left it on the ground under the 
swing,” she remembered. “Wait while I 
run and get it.” 

The pretty hat with its dull, green rib¬ 
bon wasn’t under the swing. Marjory 
looked everywhere for it. Just as she was 
about to give it up, she heard a faint stir 
in the branches over her head. Look¬ 
ing up, she saw her hat. Under it was a 
gleam of red hair, a flash of gray eyes and 
the whole of Jinny’s resentful, little 
face. 

“I don’t care if I did try it on,” she cried. 
“I ain’t hurt it any.” 

She dropped the hat. It fell straight 
down, tip-tilting itself rakishly on the back 
of Marjory’s upturned head. 

“My hat,” cried Marjory, clutching it. 

148 







SHE HEARD A FAINT STIR IN THE BRANCHES OVER HER 


HEAD 










THE BUNGAYLQAFERS 

“But—what did you want to try it on for, 
Jinny?” 

“My name’s Virginia,” said the angry, 
little voice. 

“Well, Virginia, then,” said Marjory, 
“what did you want to try my hat on for, 
Virginia?” 

“To see how ’twould look,” cried Jinny, 
defiantly. “I got a little piece of looking- 
glass up here.” 

“What for?” cried Marjory. 

“I keep it up here,” said Jinny. “And 
I climb up and look in it, sometimes, to see 
if my hair’s too bad. It ain’t so dreadful 
red under your hat. I wanted to see if 
’twould be. I didn’t hurt your hat.” 

Suddenly she burst out in wild, angry 
sobbing. 

“How’d you like it,” she said, between 
sobs, “if everybody else everywhere had a 
149 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


good time all the whole time, ridin’ around 
and havin’ parties and such things? And 
nothin’ doin’ for you, except dish-washin’ 
and cookin’ and scrubbin’ and a mop of red 
hair drivin’ you crazy all the whole time. 
How’d you like it?” 

“Oh dear,” said Marjory. She was 
much distressed. “But what can I do 
about it, Jinny—Virginia?” she added hast¬ 
ily. 

“Do? Nothin’,” cried Jinny, sullenly. 
She wiped her eyes on her apron and gazed 
down at Marjory like a big, angry bird of 
some kind. “Just go on havin’ your good 
times, I s’pose. Folks like you can’t do 
much for folks like me, I guess. But I tell 
you I would like a good time, even if I 
have got red hair.” 

“What does she mean about her hair?” 
asked Marjory, as a little later, she told 
150 





THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

the astonished group on the porch about 
Jinny’s sudden outbreak. “I think her 
hair’s lovely—or would be, if she combed 
it differently. But isn’t there some way 
we could give her some good times, Uncle 
John?” she added, anxiously. 

Rose and Mary spoke together. 

“Couldn’t she come to the bungalow, 
Father?” they said. 

“I can’t see why not,” said Father. “If 
Rose is willing. I’ll get some one else to 
help Cynthy for a while. I’d almost for¬ 
gotten that Jinny was a little girl.” 

So it happened that Aunt Rose, coming 
down the outdoor stairway from the tower 
room, was met by three eager, little girls 
who fell upon her and hugged her and 
talked all at once till every one was quite 
breathless. 

“We’ll give her the morning-glory 
151 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


room,” cried Aunt Rose, when she’d heard 
the story. She sat right down on the top 
step to talk it over. “Of course she wants 
some fun—poor little Jinny. What a 
thoughtless person I’ve been. I’ll phone 
Cynthy about it, and Larry shall take you 
right up after lunch and get her.” 

Jinny was washing dishes when the three 
excited, little girls burst in upon her. Her 
eyes were red and swollen. She had tried 
to curl her red tresses as much like Mar¬ 
jory’s as possible. Now they stood out 
around her face in a funny looking, fiery 
sort of bush. When she saw her visitor, 
she lifted the red bush defiantly. 

“I don’t care,” she began. 

“Just listen what’s going to happen, 
Jinny Mason,” said Rose. 

“Who’s it going to happen to?” asked 
Jinny. 


152 






THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

“To you,” cried all three. 

“ ’Tain’t nothin’ much, then,” said Jinny. 
She polished a plate vigorously, then set 
it down with a slam on the table. 

“You’re invited to the bungalow party,” 
cried Marjory, dancing about. 

“Who’s invitin’ me?” cried Jinny, 
sharply. 

“All of us—and Aunt Rose,” said Mary. 

“She’s phoned Cynthy all about every¬ 
thing,” said Rose. “So run upstairs and 
get ready. We’ll finish the dishes.” 

“Don’t be long,” cried Marjory, snatch¬ 
ing the dish towel from Jinny’s hand. 
“We’re going for a lovely ride—all of us.” 

Jinny was not gone long. When she 
came back, her face was scrubbed till it 
shone. She wore a faded, clean, little ging¬ 
ham dress. Her hat was pulled down over 
her red hair. She carried a small bundle. 

153 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Cynthy was found and told good-by. 
Father had gone away somewhere. Then, 
with Marjory in front with Larry, and 
Jinny between the Rosemary Twins, they 
flew back down the hills. At the bunga¬ 
low, the extra seats were put up, and, with 
Aunt Rose and Roger, they went off for a 
long ride in the hills. 

It was nearly dinner time when they came 
back. Long, lovely shadows lay across the 
lawn. The heavy fragrance of flowers 
came up from the garden. 

“There’s a car in the driveway,” said 
Aunt Rose. At the same minute, Marjory, 
leaning out from her chair, cried, “Why, 
there’s my Daddy’s car.” 

Marjory’s father stood on the porch. 
Beside him, stood a little girl. She smiled 
eagerly and shyly as the others came up 
the steps. 


154 





THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

“Lissy Penny!” cried Marjory. One 
hand flew out to the little girl, the other to 
Daddy. 

“Lissy Penny!” cried the Rosemary 
Twins. They stared at the new girl. 
Then they stared at Marjory. Then they 
stared at each other. 

“Lissy Penny!” Aunt Rose was saying. 

“Our Lissy Penny?” cried Rose. 

“From the Penny Bank?” cried Mary. 

“Lissy Penny from the Penny Bank,” 
said Marjory, gayly. “And my sister, if 
you please.” 

It took some time and some talking be¬ 
fore the Rosemary Twins could really be¬ 
lieve that the girl who had come in the car 
with Marjory’s father, was the Lissy 
Penny whose nightgowns and bathrobes 
and slippers and stockings they had 
worn. 

155 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Why didn’t you tell us it was going to 
be you?” cried Mary. 

“Just at first,” said Marjory, “we didn’t 
know the Twins we were to visit were the 
same Twins who had been at the Penny 
Bank. Then, of course, when Lissy began 
to talk about you to Aunt Melissa, she knew 
you were the very same ones. And then—” 

“I wanted to surprise you,” said Lissy, 
smiling. “I just love to surprise people.” 

“Well, you have surprised us, dear,” said 
Aunt Rose. “Then my Marjory niece is 
the Margie the little Pennies talked 
about?” 

Marjory nodded happily. 

“Your picture hung in the parlor,” said 
Mary. “I knew we had seen you 
before.” 

“You were in our wreck, too, weren’t 
you?” cried Rose. “We saw her there, 
156 






THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

Mary, don’t you remember? The girl 
traveling with a maid?” 

“Why didn’t I see you?” demanded Mar¬ 
jory. 

“You went down the aisle without turn¬ 
ing around so you could see us,” explained 
Mary. 

“And if I hadn’t gone down the aisle to 
the dining car,” cried Marjory, “prob¬ 
ably I’d ’ve been hurt, too. As it was, I 
wasn’t hurt a mite. And wasn’t it lucky 
that Fritz was found. Joe was crazy about 
him—” 

“Is it your Joe the dog belonged to?” 

“The Joe that’s coming here?” 

There were so many questions to ask and 
answer that Aunt Rose suggested they all 
go into the garden and talk all they wanted 
to, while she renewed her acquaintance 
with Marjory’s father. 

157 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“I’m just going to call you Rosemary 
Dawson,” Lissy said to the Twins, as they 
went down the porch steps. “I can’t tell 
you apart, and I’m not going to waste any 
time trying to. Do you know which is 
which?” she asked Jinny. 

“Me?” cried Jinny. “Land sakes—no. 
I just talk to ’em both at once. You al¬ 
ways say the same things to ’em both any¬ 
way, so what’s the difference? John al¬ 
ways could tell ’em apart when he was lit¬ 
tle—somehow. He couldn’t tell how he 
did it. John’s my brother—he’s just a half 
a head shorter’n me and a half a head 
taller’n Barb. Barb’s my sister.” 

“Do come, Lissy,” cried Marjory, “I’m 
just wild to know how you happened to 
come with Daddy. Did he pick you up at 
the Penny Bank?” 

“Yes,” said Lissy, as they went down the 
158 




THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

steps into the old garden. “He said he 
hadn’t seen you and Roddy for so long— 
not since you went to Grandma Beach’s— 
that he just couldn’t wait any longer.” 

Lissy waited again for Jinny. This time, 
she slipped one arm through hers. She 
wanted to hear all about the little brothers 
and sisters. Lissy was like that. And be¬ 
fore they came back to the bungalow, she 
and the little red-headed girl in the faded 
gingham had become fast friends. 

Meanwhile, on the porch, Aunt Rose and 
Marjory’s father talked over old times and 
old friends. 

“You always were a pretty youngster, 
Rose,” Marjory’s father said. His fine 
eyes rested admiringly on the Rosemary 
Twin’s aunt. “And you haven’t changed.” 

“I’m not much wiser,” laughed Aunt 
Rose. “And I’m just as fond of good times, 
159 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


as ever, David, and just as careless. Do 
you remember how you scolded me the day 
of your wedding because I boohooed right 
out loud after the service? And how I 
reached over and took my handkerchief 
out of your pocket where I’d slipped it to 
have it handy?” 

They both laughed over the incident that 
had made such an impression upon the lit¬ 
tle-girl bridesmaid. There was so much 
to remember, they were quite surprised 
when dinner was ready. 

“This is the loveliest place, Daddy,” 
said Marjory, at the table, a few minutes 
later. 

“Let’s see,” said Daddy, gravely. “How 
many loveliest places are there in the world, 
so far as you’ve discovered yet, Margie? 
The Willows? The Penny Bank? Over¬ 
brook?” 


160 





THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

“And our home in New York,” said 
Marjory, nodding, “and this delightful 
bungalow. And the farm where Uncle 
John lives.” 

“Marjory will always find the loveliest 
places, David,” said Aunt Rose, later. She 
and Marjory’s father were again on the 
porch. Marjory and the Rosemary Twins 
had gone upstairs with Lissy and Jinny to 
show them their rooms. Roger was half- 
asleep in the hammock. 

“She’s changed so,” said Mr. Brook. 
“She used to be the most discontented little 
thing—sick and whining all the time. You 
wouldn’t know she was the same child now, 
Rose.” 

“What happened to her?” cried Aunt 
Rose. She tried to think of the radiant 
Marjory, whining about everything. 

“Lissy Penny—happened,” said father 
161 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


with a smile. “She taught her how to love 
and laugh and work—and live.” 

Later that same evening, Marjory’s 
father went back to the city. He promised 
he would come to the bungalow party again 
before it was over. 

“We make me think of the ten little In¬ 
juns,” said Marjory, next morning at break¬ 
fast. “Only instead of growing less, we 
grow one or two more every day.” 

“We’ll grow five more before night,” 
said Aunt Rose. She looked up from a 
letter she’d been reading. “Joe and Betty 
and Nancy and the Marties expect to ar¬ 
rive in Joe’s car to-day.” 

It was a merry crowd that came in the 
new car, that same afternoon. The Rose¬ 
mary Twins did not find it easy to believe 
at first that a tall, slim, auburn-haired boy 
could be the Twin of a short, plump, red- 
162 






THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

headed girl. But Betty was just what Betty 
should be. And Joe was so jolly and hand¬ 
some that even Mary could not help liking 
him at once. As for Nancy, she was droll 
and spry and different from any one they 
had ever seen. 

“My hair ain’t so much redder’n hers,” 
Jinny whispered to Lissy, with a nod of her 
head in Martha’s direction. 

“I do wish Martie and I could dress 
alike,” Martha was saying, quite seriously. 
She gazed enviously at the other pair of 
Twins, alike from their pink hair bows to 
their black patent leather pumps. 

“You might not look exactly alike if you 
did,” suggested Joe, politely. “And I 
wouldn’t recommend Martin’s costume for 
you, nor yours for Martin. Where are you 
growing to, Miss M’liss?” he added, catch¬ 
ing both Lissy’s hands and spinning her 
163 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


round and round. “You’ll have to hurry, 
Mar, Lis will be out of sight if you don’t.” 

Then he gazed at the Rosemary Twins, 
rubbed his eyes, and declared solemnly that 
he saw double. Betty laughed at his non¬ 
sense. She took a hand of each Twin. 
Never mind which is which,” she said, “I’m 
going to love both of you.” 

“Hop in the car—all of you,” cried Aunt: 
Rose from the door. She waved a special 
delivery letter at them. “Here’s word 
from Susy that she’s coming on the after¬ 
noon train.” 

Tooting like mad, away went Joe and all 
the “Bungayloafers,” as he had promptly 
named the whole crowd. “I didn’t exactly 
make it up,” he said. “Saw something like 
it in a magazine, but the spelling’s mine— 
b-u-n-g-a-y-l-o-a-f-e-r-s. And it fits—so 
why not use it? We aren’t going to have 
164 






THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 

time this summer, let me tell you, to say, 
‘Miss Elizabeth Blake, Miss Martha Wren, 
Miss Nancy Spindle, Miss Marjory Brook, 
Miss Melissa Penny, Miss Virginia—” 

“Do stop your nonsense, Joe,” cried 
Betty, as they rounded the curve above the 
station. 

Exactly the same instant, the train panted 
in. But no Susy got off. 

“Maybe Aunt Rose read the letter 
wrong,” said Rose. “She does make funny 
mistakes, sometimes.” 

But Aunt Rose had not made a mistake 
this time. The Bungayloafers read the let¬ 
ter. It said Susy would arrive on the six- 
thirty train. And she had not arrived. 

All the evening, they tried to telephone 
Ridgewood, but they could not get connec¬ 
tion. 

By and by, after the warm, velvety dark- 

165 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


ness of July had settled down over every¬ 
thing, and a soft little wind had sprung up, 
sweet with scents of field, forest and gar¬ 
den, they sat on the porch and wondered 
this and wondered that. At last, they all 
went into the living room. Joe said he 
would try the telephone once more. 

They had just closed and locked the door 
of the porch, when clear and sharp through 
the house sounded its bell. Aunt Rose, 
with a Twin on each side, and a back¬ 
ground of anxious faces, hurried to the 
door. 

Outside stood a small figure. When 
Aunt Rose turned on the porch light, the 
figure revealed proved to be black-haired, 
with a troublesome, black lock trying to get 
down into its black eyes. It wore a long 
red cape, and carried a small bag. A 
larger bag sat beside it. 

166 







THE BUNGAYLOAFERS 


“Aunt Rose?” questioned a breathless, 
little voice. 

It was Susy. The next minute, she was 
in the midst of the background, or rather 
there wasn’t any background. It all got 
into the foreground and surrounded Susy, 
pulled her this way and that, and asked her 
questions. 

“But where did you come from, Susy?” 
cried Aunt Rose, for the fifth time at least. 
She reached over and drew Susy out of the 
crowd of Bungayloafers. “There’s no 
train from Ridgewood, now.” 

“I came this afternoon, just as I said in 
the letter,” said Susy. “But I forgot to 
stop off here. I went right along to the 
next station. And I had to stay there till 
a train brought me back. It didn’t want to 
stop here, but a man made it. And I 
walked and walked trying to find the house. 

167 




MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Mother didn’t want me to travel at night,” 
she explained, as they all trooped out into 
the dining room to get her a lunch, “that’s 
why I came this afternoon!” 


168 






CHAPTER XI 


NAMING THE BUNGALOW 


T HE next morning, a quick dash 
of midsummer rain sent the Bun- 
gayloafers scampering from lawn 
and garden to the shelter of the porch. 

“This is just the time,” said Aunt Rose, 
laying down her knitting, “to talk about a 
party we are to give.” 

“We’re quite a party all by ourselves,” 
laughed Lissy. “Who else shall we have, 
Aunt Rose?” 

“The little Sugar River people,” said 
Aunt Rose. “Rose and Mary have been so 
busy getting wrecked and getting over it 
as well as getting moved, that they haven’t 
seen much of them yet.” 

169 


MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Laura Lee and Polly Ames and Norah 
Perry,” said Mary, counting. 

“Billy Brown,” added Rose, “and Paul 
and Tom—you always leave out the boys, 
Mary.” 

“Why not ask all the little Sugar River 
folks?” said Aunt Rose. “There’s plenty 
of room on the lawn. And I’d like your 
little Half Pennies, Lissy. We could have 
the party on some Saturday. Then they 
could come Friday night and stay over Sun¬ 
day.” 

“They’d love it,” said Lissy, “and so 
would I.” 

“How about your little brother and sis¬ 
ter, Jinny?” asked Aunt Rose. “Could 
they come for over Sunday, too?” 

“They’d be tickled to death,” said Jinny, 
promptly. 

“Why couldn’t we have a pageant?” said 
170 






NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

Betty, “coming out of the woods, winding 
along that darling path down into the gar¬ 
den and across the lawn—oh, it would be 
lovely!” 

“Betty’s got ’em,” said Joe. 

“Got what? What’s Betty got?” cried 
Martha. 

“Visions, Joe means, Martie,” said Betty. 
“He always laughs at me because I dream 
things out. But can’t you all almost see 
it?” 

“I can,” said Lissy, softly. 

They were all silent for a minute under 
the spell of Betty’s dream. Roger could 
see it. Sometimes, it almost seemed that he 
could see such things better since his eyes 
were not good. Martin could see it, too. 
But Martha gazed wonderingly out across 
the lawn. She saw only grass, a fountain, 
and bright flower beds, all misty with warm 
171 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


rain. It was Jinny who broke the silence. 

“Wright says you’d ought to’ve put po¬ 
tatoes in there, Aunt Rose,” she said. 
“They’re goin’ to be awful high.” 

Every one laughed. 

“We must decide on the time and write 
the invitations,” said Aunt Rose. “Mean¬ 
while, I’ll appoint Betty chairman of a 
committee of her own choosing, to look up 
and arrange a pretty pageant.” 

Betty’s mother was in so many clubs, 
Betty knew all about chairmen and com¬ 
mittees. 

“Lissy,” she said, “and Margie, Rose¬ 
mary Dawson, and Roger to begin with. 
Maybe I’ll want more later—and Aunt 
Rose, of course. You’ll have to be on all 
our committees, Aunt Rose.” 

“Before we can have a party,” said Mar¬ 
jory, anxiously, “I think we ought to have 
172 




NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

a real name for the bungalow. We can't 
go on calling it ‘the bungalow that isn’t a 
bungalow.’ ” 

“The bun that isn’t a bun,” murmured 
Joe. 

“Let’s have a contest,” cried Nancy, 
eagerly. “Each one suggest a name—and 
Aunt Rose decide which is best.” 

The idea of a contest delighted every one. 

“This afternoon,” cried Rose. 

“Time—immediately after lunch,” said 
Joe. “Place — this porch. Everybody 
come and bring the best name you can think 
of.” 

Everybody was there to the minute. 
Aunt Rose, quite as interested as any of her 
guests, passed a pretty basket in which were 
pencils and slips of colored papers. 

“Fifteen minutes, now, to think of the 
best name for my new bungalow,” she cried, 
173 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


when every one had a pencil and a slip of 
paper. “Whoever chooses the name I 
think most suitable, may have the honor 
of christening it with some sort of cere¬ 
mony—” 

“What’s a sarah-mony?” cried Jinny. 

“Like when a ship’s named, they break 
a bottle of champagne over its prow,” said 
Betty. 

“We can’t do that,” said Aunt Rose, smil¬ 
ing, “but you must think up something just 
as good. And whatever you do, Jinny, 
we’ll call it a ceremony.” 

For fifteen minutes, there was much 
wrinkling of foreheads, anxious scribblings, 
more anxious erasings. The rain beat a 
soft, steady accompaniment overhead. 
And when the clock in the living room 
struck three, Aunt Rose called, “Time’s 


174 






NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

Roger collected the papers in the basket. 
Then he passed it around again. Every 
one took a paper of a different color from 
what he had had before. 

“Now, each one read the name on the 
paper you have,” said Aunt Rose. “I’ll 
write them all down. Then I can think 
them over and decide about them.” 

When Aunt Rose’s list was complete, 
she read it aloud slowly. Each Bungay- 
loafer listened anxiously for his own 
name. 

“Pleasant View,” read Aunt Rose, “Gar¬ 
den Place, Riverview, Good Times Bunga¬ 
low, Bee Hive, Once Upon a Time Bunga¬ 
low, Welcome Inn, Fair View, Sugar Loaf, 
Cinnamon Bun, Rosemary Bungalow, Rose 
Bungalow, The Merry-go-Round. Aren’t 
they good?” she exclaimed, “every single 
one of them. I love that Cinnamon Bun 
175 





MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


of yours, Joe. I know that’s yours. And 
Sugar Loaf and Bee Hive.” 

Aunt Rose was studying her list. “But 
it isn’t going to take me long to choose. 
For there’s one name here, that I had al¬ 
ready half chosen myself. It’s a name I’m 
specially fond of. Aunt Rose smiled at 
her Twins, together as usual, on the porch 
railing. “Besides it means remembrance. 
And when you go away, I do want you to 
carry just the sweetest remembrances of 
this place and this summer.” 

“But what’s the name, Aunt Rose?” cried 
several. 

“Rosemary Bungalow,” said Aunt Rose. 

“I love Rosemary Bungalow,” said Betty, 
saying the new name softly. “There 
couldn’t be a sweeter one, nor one that 
fitted it better.” 


176 






NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

“I thought you chose that one, Betty,” 
said Aunt Rose. 

“Mine was ‘Once Upon a Time,’ ” said 
Betty. “Because it has opened just like a 
lovely old fairy tale.” 

“Lissy?” asked Aunt Rose. 

“Mine was Sugar Loaf,” said Lissy, “be¬ 
cause we’re on the Sugar River.” 

“Mine was Welcome Inn,” said Nancy. 
“There’s a camp on the way up to Uncle 
Ben Baker’s named that.” 

“Mine was Bee Hive,” said Martha. 

“What was yours, Mary?” asked Aunt 
Rose. 

“Rose Bungalow,” said Mary, promptly. 

“And yours, Rose?” 

“Merry-go-Round,” dimpled Rose. She 
pronounced the first word as if it was 
spelled M-a-r-y. 


177 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“But whose was Rosemary Bungalow?” 
asked Aunt Rose. 

“Mine,” said Marjory, with very pink 
cheeks. “May I really christen it, Aunt 
Rose?” 

“Of course, dear,” said Aunt Rose. 

“My ceremony would have been most at¬ 
tractive,” said Joe. “If you’d only selected 
‘Cinnamon Bun,’ Aunt Rose, we would 
have had those delicacies for supper.” 

“Would you have made them, Joe?” 
teased Lissy. 

“You would, Miss M’liss,” said Joe. 

“Please, may I borrow your Rosemary 
Twins for my ceremony?” said Marjory. 
“We’ll go right away now and plan it. 
But we can’t have it till the sun comes out.” 

“What Joe said about my making cin¬ 
namon buns makes me think of something 
else, Aunt Rose,” said Lissy, as Marjory, 
178 










NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

an arm around each Twin, departed for the 
den. “Nancy and I’ve been thinking 
things over. We think we all ought to 
have some kind of work to do this summer 
while we’re here. Not just be ‘Gay- 
loafers.’ ” 

“What would you like to do, Lissy?” 
Aunt Rose smiled at Lissy’s eager face. 

“We’ve planned it out pretty well,” said 
Lissy, smiling back. “That is, if every one 
is satisfied.” 

“If not, what happens, Miss M’liss?” 
asked Joe. 

“They can trade off work with some one 
else, I suppose,” said Lissy. “Mrs. Wright, 
even with her daughter to help her, can’t 
do all the work for such a big family,” she 
went on. “Besides, we’d all like to help.” 

“I hope I’m not down for dish-washing,” 
said Roger. 


179 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Of course not,” said Lissy. “We’ve 
asked each one to do something he likes to 
do, so far as we know. That’s so we’ll all 
be happy about it,” she explained to Aunt 
Rose. 

“And so Mrs. Wright will be happy hav¬ 
ing us,” offered Nancy, with a droll smile. 

“Go ahead, Lis,” said Joe, “let’s hear 
the worst at once.” 

“Well, you’re to help mow the lawn,” 
laughed Lissy. “It will be good for you, 
Joey—you’re getting stout.” 

Every one laughed at this. Joe had been 
so busy growing tall, he had not taken 
much time to grow stout. 

“Martin and Roger are to help Wright 
in the garden,” went on Lissy. “Nancy 
and I are used to doing housework, so we’ll 
help in the kitchen. Betty, Margie, and 
the Mary-Twin will help keep the down- 
180 






NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

stairs rooms in order; and the Rose-Twin, 
Susy, Martie, and Jinny will help do the 
upstairs work.” 

“Good,” cried Betty. “All in favor of 
Miss Penny’s arrangements, please stand 
up and say ‘Aye.’ ” 

Marjory and the Rosemary Twins, com¬ 
ing back just then, were in time to get 
into the rising vote. After being hurriedly 
told what it was, they made it unanimous 
by loud “Ayes.” 

“Please, Lissy,” said Rose, “can’t some 
one change with Mary, so we can be on the 
same committee?” 

Lissy shook her brown head. 

“We separated you on purpose,” she said. 
“So for an hour or so, mornings, we can 
tell you apart. Mary will be downstairs, 
and Rose will be upstairs,” she explained 
to the others. 


181 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Maybe,” said one of the Twins, laugh¬ 
ing. “Anyway, Rosemary Dawson will see 
that her share of the work is done.” 

In a wonderful after-the-rain sunset, that 
July night, Rosemary Bungalow was christ¬ 
ened. All the Bungayloafers, except the 
three “christeners,” as Joe called them, 
found good seats on the porch. The vic- 
trola was brought out. To the strains of 
the “Flower Song,” Marjory, in a danc¬ 
ing-frock patterned after a pink rose, ap¬ 
peared in the living-room door and took 
her place in the center of the porch. As 
she began to dance a rose dance, which she 
made up as she went along, from the east 
and west sides of the porch came a Rose¬ 
mary Twin. They were all pink and 
white, too. As they danced slowly along 
toward Marjory, they scattered roses. 
When they were near enough, they tossed 
182 







JOE TOOK THE HINT, AND WITH AUNT ROSE, LED OFF 

IN A DANCE.” 


i 















NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

rosebuds toward her, which she caught, or 
missed, just as it happened. As the Twins 
came together, one each side of Marjory, 
they lifted twin bouquets of roses high. 
And Marjory standing below them, re¬ 
cited : 

I’m very proud that I’ve the right 
Upon this happy July night, 

To stand before you, one and all, 

And name the place we love so well. 

As long as seasons come and go, 

In sun or rain or wind or snow, 

It is—ROSEMARY BUNGALOW! 

As she said “Rosemary Bungalow,” down 
from the loosened bouquets showered the 
roses. 

There was wild applause at this. The 
victrola set up such a merry little dance that 
Joe took the hint, and with Aunt Rose, led 

183 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


off in a dance. Martin and Martha bobbed 
up and down close behind them. Nancy 
Spindle and Susy started bravely out. 
Lissy piloted a red-faced Jinny about. 
Aunt Rose, smiling, saw Marjory hold out 
her arms to one Rosemary Twin, while the 
other hopped off with Roger. 

“Mary,” said Rose, sometime later, when 
they were in bed, a glory of moonlight 
showing the pink roses in their curtains, 
“there’s something I’ve got to tell you.” 

“You haven’t,” cried Mary. “ ’Cause, 
Rose, I know it already.” 

“Do you like her too?” said Rose. 

“I—just about love her,” cried Mary. 

“I loved her the first minute I saw her,” 
said Rose, “only I just wouldn’t let myself.” 

“So did I,” said Mary. 

“I was so afraid,” said Rose, in a shamed, 
little voice, “that maybe Aunt Rose would 
184 






NAMING THE BUNGALOW 

love her more than she did you, Mary. I 
couldn’t bear the thought of that.” 

“I felt just that way about you, Rose,” 
said Mary. “Wasn’t it silly?” 

“Well,” said Rose, “I’m glad we didn’t 
tell any one.” 

“So am I,” said Mary. 


185 






CHAPTER XII 


jinny’s shower 

I N the very middle of Mary’s whisper, 
there came a soft knock on the door. 
It was repeated urgently. Then, be¬ 
fore either Twin could hop out of bed to 
open the door, it opened gently. Lissy 
came in. She was very gorgeous in a Jap¬ 
anese kimono Marjory had given her. 
But her face above its embroidered cherry 
blooms was anxious. 

“Girls,” she said, “I’ve found out some¬ 
thing about Jinny that I’ve just got to tell 
you. I’ve told Mar to come.” 

At this minute, Marjory appeared. Her 
golden curls fell about her face. She wore 
something all honey-colored silk and blue 
186 


JINNY’S SHOWER 


butterflies. There were tiny yellow mules 
on her bare feet. 

“What is it, Lis?” she said, as she sat 
down on Mary’s bed. 

“I went into Jinny’s room just a little 
while ago,” said Lissy, solemnly. “At first 
I couldn’t find her. 1 listened and I heard 
a sob somewhere. Then another and an¬ 
other. They came from the closet. I 
opened the door and there was Jinny right 
on the floor, crying as if she’d never stop.” 

“What was the matter?” cried Mary, as 
Lissy stopped for breath. 

“At first she wouldn’t tell me,” said Lissy. 
“But after a while, she did. Girls,” Lissy 
paused, dramatically, “she hasn’t a single 
thing to wear.” 

“To the party?” asked Marjory. 

“To—anything,” declared Lissy. “She 
has just two gingham dresses to her name. 

187 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


There wasn’t another thing in her closet 
except a shabby winter dress made out of 
one of her mother’s and that straw hat she 
wears and an old sweater that is really 
John’s. She says she’s going back to 
Cynthy’s. She can get along there. Now 
what I want to know is, what are we going 
to do about it? She just loves good times 
and it’s too bad for her to go back, isn’t it?” 

“She did want to come so much,” said 
Mary. 

“She can’t go back,” said Rose. 

“She never once thought about clothes 
when she came that day,” said Lissy. 
“You see, she’s never been anywhere be¬ 
fore. I know what it is not to have many 
clothes,” she added. “There was a time 
not so long ago when I didn’t have any¬ 
thing much myself. Of course, I haven’t 
many now—not like Betty’s and Mar’s and 
188 





JINNY'S SHOWER 


Rosemary Dawson’s. But I have plenty to 
have good times in, and Jinny hasn’t.” 

“We didn’t have many, either,” said 
Mary, quietly, “until we knew Aunt Mary 
Craig and Aunt Rose. They buy so many 
for us.” 

“Father does too, now,” said Rose. 
“But I can remember buying Rosemary 
Dawson a coat out of egg money.” 

“I’ve loads of things Jinny could have,” 
said Marjory. “But they’re all home or 
else at Grandma Beach’s or the Penny 
Bank. I keep a few things everywhere,” 
she laughed, “so as to have them handy 
when I go visiting.” 

“My clothes are always made over for 
Trixy,” said Lissy. 

“Cynthy takes ours for her little grand¬ 
children,” said Mary. “But there’s a 
trunkful—Rose, do you remember?” 

189 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“I—believe—they’d—just about—fit,” 

Rose said, slowly. 

“When she went west with Aunt Rose, 
last spring,” said Mary, “Rosemary Daw¬ 
son had everything new. And she felt 
so sort of sorry about leaving her old 
things—” 

“She’d had such good times in them, ’ 
explained Rose anxiously, “she couldn’t 
bear to give them up.” 

“There were two of everything,” went 
on Mary. “So we just saved out one of 
each of the things we liked best.” 

“I know ex-act-ly how you felt,” cried 
Lissy. “I’ve always kept a blue-flowered 
dress with black velvet bows that I had 
when I first knew Mar—before I knew she 
was my sister.” 

“We thought maybe we’d wear them 
again, sometime,” said Mary. 

190 





JINNY’S SHOWER 


“But you don’t need them, do you?” said 
Lissy. 

“We couldn’t wear them if we did,” said 
Rose, “we’ve grown so in a year. Let’s 
give them to Jinny, Mary.” 

“We’ll go and get them to-morrow,” 
said Mary. “Maybe they’ll need fixing,” 
she added. 

“Nancy’ll help me fix them,” said Lissy. 

“Aunt Rose will help,” said Rose. 

“Don’t let’s tell Aunt Rose one single 
thing about it,” said Lissy. “She’s doing 
so much for us—let’s do every single bit 
of this by ourselves.” 

“I’m going to give Jinny that hat of mine 
she likes so,” said Marjory, “the one with 
the green ribbon. I don’t need it. And 
I’ll give her my string of green beads that 
matches it.” 

“Come on, Mar,” cried Lissy, “you’ll 
191 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


give away every single thing you have, if 
we don’t go right to bed and to sleep.” 

The next morning, the Rosemary Twins, 
Marjory, Lissy, Nancy, and Joe went to 
the Dawson farm. The girls climbed the 
steep stairs to the attic. And the little 
trunk was opened. 

Mary dived in first. 

“Here’s the skirt we loved so, Rose,” she 
cried. 

“And here’s the coat,” said Rose. “And 
there’s a pair of shoes to match. And some 
stockings.” 

“Here are the middies Rosemary Daw¬ 
son liked best,” said Rose. 

“And her favorite thin dresses,” said 
Mary. 

“Aren’t they pretty?” cried Marjory. 
“This white one doesn’t look as if it had 
ever been worn.” 


192 





JINNY'S SHOWER 


“It hasn’t,” said Rose. “I spilled ink 
all over Mary’s the first time we had them 
on, and I’d never wear mine afterward.” 

“Aren’t you funny Twins?” cried Nancy. 
“But isn’t it lucky for Jinny that Rosemary 
Dawson saved this wardrobe. I’ll borrow 
one of Jinny’s ginghams to measure by and 
fix them in no time. They’ll look just like 
new.” 

Rosemary Dawson’s wardrobe was put 
back into the trunk. The trunk was put 
into the car and Rosemary Dawson sat on 
it going back to the bungalow. They could 
see Jinny’s red head on the porch so they 
all rode to the garage. There the trunk 
was hidden under some robes. 

“Hurry,” cried Susy from the porch, as 
they came up the steps. 

Aunt Rose jingled two keys at them. 

“The tower room is ready,” she said. 

193 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Now I’m going to hand over its keys to 
Nancy and Joe because they’re my oldest 
guests. They can loan them at any time to 
any one they think responsible.” 

Half the Bungayloafers followed Joe up 
the inside stairway to the tower room. 
The other half followed Nancy up the out¬ 
side stairway. Nancy and Joe unlocked 
the doors, and the Bungayloafers trooped 
in. 

Under Aunt Rose’s skillful fingers, the 
room had become a forest bower. The 
ceiling was papered with blue, over which 
sailed fleecy clouds. The floor was hidden 
with soft, moss-green rugs. The walls— 
there weren’t many as there were windows 
on all sides of the tower—showed pictured 
trees with charming, shadowy gray and 
brown distances between. Low seats ran 
all the way around the room. There was 
194 




JINNY'S SHOWER 


a table with books and magazines. Ferns 
stood in nooks and crannies. All the wide- 
open windows looked through real wind- 
stirred branches of great trees away across 
a wonderful sweep of lawn and river, 
meadow and forest. 

“We’ll fill this room just full of good 
times,” said Aunt Rose in the midst of the 
“Oh’s” and “Ah’s” of the Bungayloafers. 
“And don’t let’s let one cross or unhappy 
thought get into it.” 

“It couldn’t stay if it did,” cried Betty. 
“How did you ever think of it, Aunt Rose?” 

“It’s a part of my long-ago, little-girl 
dream of a houseful of boys and girls and 
good times,” laughed Aunt Rose. “And se¬ 
crets—we must have some secrets for it, 
children.” 

“A secret room,” said Joe. “It was all 
the bungalow lacked, Aunt Rose.” 

195 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“And there’s one other thing I want you 
to do for this room,” said Aunt Rose hap¬ 
pily. “It lacks pillows. I want each of 
you to make the prettiest pillow you can, 
put your initials on it somewhere, or your 
names, and leave it here for me when you 
go.” 

“Where’ll we gdt the balsam?” asked 
Susy. 

“There’s loads of it in the gully,” said 
Rose. 

“Where’ll we get the tops for the pil¬ 
lows?” questioned practical Martha. 

“I’ve saved odds and ends of materials 
for years,” said Aunt Rose. 

The luncheon bell sounded just here. 
As Joe and Nancy waited importantly to 
lock the doors of the secret room, Nancy 
managed to whisper to Lissy, “Just the 
place for Rosemary Dawson’s wardrobe.” 

196 





JINNY’S SHOWER 


All that afternoon, wherever the Bun- 
gayloafers were, there was much whisper¬ 
ing, plotting, and planning, which stopped 
suddenly when Jinny’s red head appeared. 
Whatever they did, wherever they were, 
it went on more or less all through Sunday. 

Monday morning early, Lissy slipped 
into Aunt Rose’s room. 

“Would you mind very much,” she asked 
anxiously, “not going into the secret room 
to-day and to-morrow? We—we’re going 
to have the first secret there.” 

“A secret from me?” asked Aunt Rose, 
wonderingly. 

“We want to do it all by ourselves,” ex¬ 
plained Lissy. 

“And please, Aunt Rose,” said a blue- 
ginghamed Twin, who slipped in just here, 
“don’t tell Jinny there’s a secret.” 

“And don’t let her come up in the secret 
197 







MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


room, if you can help it,” said another blue- 
ginghamed Twin, coming in. 

Aunt Rose promised. All day long, 
while quiet, mysterious feet glided up and 
down the outdoor stairway to the tower, 
she seemed not to hear. But her eyes 
twinkled. 

Meanwhile, behind locked doors, Nancy, 
Lissy, and Betty measured, sewed, and 
added finishing touches to Rosemary Daw¬ 
son’s wardrobe. The others did what they 
could to help. They could not sew much, 
but Rose and Mary helped press the fin¬ 
ished garments. And some one, all the 
time, had to keep Jinny away, without let¬ 
ting her know she was being kept away. 

“How shall we give them to her?” some 
one in the secret room was asking, every 
few minutes. 

It was Betty who finally had an inspira- 

198 






JINNY'S SHOWER 


tion. The sister of one of her school 
chums was to be married in August. And 
Betty’s chum wrote Betty of all the showers 
that were to be given the bride. 

“Girls, why can’t we give Jinny a 
shower?” she said after she had read the 
letter aloud. 

It was Martha, of course, who gave the 
word its real meaning. 

“Just drop things on her and run?” she 
asked. 

“Why not?” cried Marjory. 

By Tuesday night, everything was ready. 
And in spite of its being one of the loveli¬ 
est of July nights, warm, starlit, and sweet 
with dew and clover, all the Bungayloafers 
showed an unusual desire to go to bed early. 

After Jinny was safely in her morning- 
glory room, a delegation waited upon Aunt 
Rose. They wanted to go through her 
199 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


room to the sleeping porch which was on 
one side of Jinny’s room. The rest of them 
were already in Marjory’s room across the 
hall. 

“Please, Aunt Rose, will you go into 
Jinny’s room for a few minutes?” said one 
of the Twins, excitedly. 

Aunt Rose tapped at Jinny’s door. But 
no one answered. 

She pushed the door open softly. There 
was nothing there but the pretty morning- 
glory furnishings themselves. And in the 
middle of them, looking much out of place, 
stood a dilapidated suit case. Aunt Rose 
peeped out of the window on either side of 
the room. In each sleeping porch, she 
could see the dim forms of Bungayloafers. 
Among them was no red head except 
Martha’s bobbed one. 

Then Aunt Rose heard a sound that 
200 





JINNY'S SHOWER 


didn’t go at all with the half-suppressed 
giggles and whispers outside. It was a sob, 
and it came from Jinny’s closet. 

“They haven’t meant to, but they’ve car¬ 
ried their secret too far,” thought Aunt 
Rose. “Jinny knows they’re keeping some¬ 
thing from her.” 

Aunt Rose opened the closet door. 
There with her head hidden in a morning- 
glory cushion, on the floor lay Jinny. 

“There ain’t no use,” she sobbed, from 
the delicate, silken shelter of Aunt Rose’s 
arms a minute later, “for Lissy to tell me 
to stick it out. I can’t stick out nothin’ in 
them clothes.” She pointed to the solitary 
gingham on its hook. “I washed it again 
to-day and it’s shrank more’n ever. I’m 
goin’ home—that’s where I’m goin’.” 

Still sobbing, she sank out of Aunt Rose’s 
arms upon the old suit case. And it was 
201 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


just at this very minute that Jinny’s shower 
began. From one of the windows, a soft 
newspaper package came flying. It struck 
Jinny’s head, and dropped to the floor. 

Falling apart, it revealed a neat brown 
and green checked skirt. Even through 
her tears, Jinny could read the printed 
“JINNY” on its card. As she picked it up 
wonderingly, another package, aimed from 
the window on the other side of the room, 
struck her squarely on the shoulder. It 
disclosed a smart brown coat. Before 
Jinny could even wipe up the last tears, 
from both sides packages came flying thick 
and fast. Rosemary Dawson’s wardrobe 
had been added to in many ways. Each 
little Bungayloafer had wanted to give 
something. One package brought Marjory’s 
white sailor with its green band. Another 
brought a pretty brown hat which had been 
202 







































































































• • 


















































































































JINNY’S SHOWER 


Betty’s. The pocket of Rosemary Daw¬ 
son’s tan coat held some small kid gloves 
which were Joe’s offering. There were 
some stockings which Martin and Roger 
had bought out of their allowances. In 
fact, that wonderful shower brought Jinny 
as complete a wardrobe for a summer out¬ 
ing as any little girl need have. 

The last two packages of all—one com¬ 
ing from each side at the same minute— 
brought a string of dull, green beads and a 
box of dainty handkerchiefs. Each little 
girl had selected one from her own 
stock. 

“How do you like showers, Miss Virginia 
Mason?” cried Joe’s voice from the dark¬ 
ness outside. 

“Land sake, Joe,” cried Jinny, clutching 
fast to her green beads, “I ain’t goin’ to be 
married.” 


203 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Happy birthday then,’' said Betty’s 
voice. 

“ ’Tain’t my birthday—yet,” cried Jinny. 

“Well, it’s your shower,” said Joe. 

“Well, what do you know about that?” 
cried Jinny. She sat down on the old suit 
case again, her finery piled up about her, 
while through the windows and door came 
the Bungayloafers. “Me — a shower? 
What would Mums say to that, I wonder? 
Maybe ’tain’t me, really.” 

“ ‘But if it be I,’ ” sang Joe, as the Bun¬ 
gayloafers began a march round and round 
Jinny on her suit case, “ ‘My little dog’ll 
know!’ It looks like you, Jinny, your hair’s 
still red.” 

“I don’t care if ’tis,” said Jinny. 

“Come on, Jinny,” cried Lissv, “you’re in 
the secret, now.” 

Jinny could not take the hand Lissy held 
204 






JINNY'S SHOWER 


out. Her own were too full for that. 
But wearing a long tan coat, a white hat, 
one new glove, and carrying a blue-bor¬ 
dered handkerchief, a tan oxford, and a 
string of jade beads, she joined in the 
march. 


205 






CHAPTER XIII 


THE M. S. 


w 


E came to call on you all,” 
said Laura’s voice, politely, 
from under a blue hat so big 


and droopy it quite hid her face. 

It was more than a week after Jinny’s 
shower. The Bungayloafers had just re¬ 
turned from a delightful day in the city 
with some of Aunt Rose’s friends, to find 
three callers waiting for them on the porch. 

“We thought you’d be home soon, so we 
waited,” said Norah. She smoothed down 
the folds of her new, dotted Swiss frock. 

“We’d have been here long ago,” piped 
up Polly briskly, twirling a new pink para¬ 
sol, “but we’ve been motoring with Laura’s 


206 


THE M. S. 


father, and we’ve only just returned home.” 

It was so funny to see their three chums 
so grown up, so dressed up, and so formal, 
that the Rosemary Twins wanted to giggle. 

“We’re so glad you’ve come,” cried Rose. 
“We’ve been keeping some of the best things 
for you.” 

“We want you all to take part in our 
pageant,” said Betty. 

“There’s going to be a picnic to-morrow,” 
said Mary. “And you’re all invited.” 

“Oh, goodie,” said an eager voice under 
the blue hat. 

“We hoped there’d be lots of picnics and 
parties and things,” confessed Polly. 

After this there was no more formality. 
Laura took off her hat and Polly and 
Norah took off theirs. 

“We’re all going to make balsam pillows 
for the secret room up in the tower,” said 
207 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Martha. “We!re going to get loads of bal¬ 
sam to-morrow.” 

“Look .up some more boys to help,” said 
Joe. “Three of us are not anywhere near 
enough for so many charming girls.” 

“Billy and Paul and Tom,” said Rose. 

“Tom’s cousin Harry is visiting him,” 
suggested Norah. 

“Tom, Dick, and Harry—let’s have them 
all,” cried Joe. 

“Tom, Paul, and Harry,” corrected 
Polly. 

“It’ll be almost like the old M. S. we 
had the year Rosemary Dawson went to 
school,” cried Norah. 

“What was the M. S.?” asked Lissy. “It 
sounds mysterious.” 

“It was, Lissy,” laughed Rose. “It was 
the Mysterious Seven. There were sup¬ 
posed to be just seven of us. Then when 
208 






THE M. S. 


Rosemary Dawson turned out to be two, 
there were eight. But we agreed never to 
change the name.” 

“I move that the Bungayloafers be al¬ 
lowed to join,” cried Joe. “Can’t we be 
the Mysterious Dozen and a Half?” 

“If we still count Rosemary Dawson as 
one,” said Betty, “we’d be the Mysterious 
Seventeen.” 

Then and there, without consulting the 
absent members of the M. S., the Bungay¬ 
loafers were made life members of the 
society. Headquarters for the summer 
was to be the secret room, and to it those 
present flocked immediately. 

It rained a little early the next morning. 
But perhaps the clerk of the Weather 
Bureau saw all the disappointed little faces 
looking out of the windows of Rosemary 
Bungalow. Anyhow, he decided to post- 
209 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


pone the rain, and sent the sun scurrying to 
dry up the wet places. 

“And the rain’s made everything so fresh 
and green and sparkly,” cried Marjory, as 
they all left the cars and followed a path 
down into the gully. 

All up and down the sides of the gully 
climbed the rows of balsam trees. And up 
and down the sides of the gully climbed the 
M. S., the boys with hatchets, the girls with 
bags. When the bags were full and it was 
time for lunch, they were a tired, hot, and 
hungry crowd. 

Afterward, when for some days it 
seemed impossible to talk about anything 
else, every one remembered that it was 
while the M. S. ate their lunch on the rocks 
by the river that the first mention of the 
pearls belonging to Marjory and Lissy was 
made. 


210 






THE M. S. 


It all began by Betty’s talking about the 
pageant The committee, after many meet¬ 
ings and much discussion, had decided that 
characters from the children’s favorite 
story books should be represented, and that 
the pageant should be called “Our Story 
Book Friends.” Every one wanted Betty 
to be “The Sleeping Beauty.” 

“I haven’t a string of pearl beads with 
me,” she said. “And how can I be a prin¬ 
cess, without pearls?” 

“Aunt Rose has some,” said Rose. “But 
they’re in California.” 

“Lissy has some pearls,” said Marjory. 
“A lovely, little string of them—you 
could wear them, Betty. Couldn’t she, 
Lissy?” 

“Really truly pearls?” cried Betty. 

“Mar knows they’re hers, not mine,” said 
Lissy, soberly. 


211 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Let’s tell them,” said Marjory. “And 
see what they think.” 

“Any one would know they were yours, 
Mar,” said Lissy. 

“It sounds mysterious enough even for 
the M. S.,” said Joe. 

“It is,” said Marjory. “It’s just like a 
story book, Joey. It all began last summer 
when Granny—Lissy’s and my great-grand¬ 
mother, you know—gave us each a little 
string of pearls that had been our own 
mother’s. Why no! It didn’t begin there 
—it began long, long before that. Where 
did it begin, Lissy?” 

“I don’t know where it began,” said Lissy. 
“The pearls have been in the Beach family 
for ages seems to me. But when our 
mother married Peter Penny, her grand¬ 
mother—that’s Mar’s and my great-grand- 
212 






THE M. S. 


mother—gave her a little wooden box for 
a wedding gift.” 

“And in that box were the pearls,” cried 
Marjory. 

“It’s such a curious old box,” went on 
Lissy. “It looks simple enough. And it 
unlocks with a tiny key. When the cover 
is up, it looks like any other box inside. 
But if you slip the key back in the lock and 
press hard, up flies what you thought was 
the bottom of the box, and there, between 
it and the really truly bottom, is quite a 
good-sized space. In there, were the 
pearls. But mother never knew it. And 
Papa Penny didn’t know it. They used to 
give the box to me to play with when I 
was a little bit of a girl. I can’t remem¬ 
ber when I didn’t have it. I loved it bet¬ 
ter than anything else and when I went 
away from home, I always carried it. Last 
213 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


summer, when I went to The Willows to 
see Margie, I took the box along with my 
sewing things in it.” 

“One day,” went on Marjory, as Lissy 
paused for breath, “when Granny was sick, 
she saw the box. She insisted that the 
pearls were in it. Lis and I thought she 
was out of her head. But just to please 
her, we opened the box as she told us to, 
then put the key back in the lock and 
pressed it hard—and up flew the bottom of 
the box, and there were the pearls.” 

“But hadn’t the rest of your family—the 
Beaches—ever missed them?” cried Betty. 

“They thought Granny had them hidden 
away with her treasures,” said Lissy. 
“They were hers, anyway, you see.” 

“Granny had them made into two 
strings,” said Marjory. “One for Lissy 
and one for me. They were just exactly 
214 






THE M. S. 


-■■■■y . 

alike. The only way we could tell which 
was which was to keep Lissy’s always in 
the wooden box and mine in their new, 
blue case. It didn’t matter, then, for of 
course we couldn’t wear them.” 

“Marjory’s father and mine both said 
they were too valuable for little girls to 
have around, anyway,” said Lissy. “They 
tried to get Granny to say they might keep 
them for us until we grew up. But Granny 
wouldn’t. She said they were ours and we 
could keep them ourselves and wear them, 
if we wanted to. Granny is so funny and 
sweet—just like a child, herself.” 

“Well, we worried about what we’d ever 
do when we did begin to wear them,” said 
Marjory. “We’re together so much, you 
know. And if both strings got left on the 
dresser for half a minute, we’d never know 
which was which again. Papa Penny 
215 




MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


thought of a splendid way out. There were 
two rings of mother’s he had kept for us, 
one with a blue stone and one with a yel¬ 
low one.” 

“Those are our colors, you know,” ex¬ 
plained Lissy. 

“So Papa Penny suggested that we have 
the blue stone set in the clasp of Lissy’s 
beads, and the yellow one in mine,” went 
on Marjory. “We took the pearls to a 
jeweler’s in the little white boxes marked 
‘Lissy’ and ‘Marjory.’ Next comes that 
day last spring when you telephoned, Joey, 
about Fritz—the day of the wreck, you 
know. Papa Penny had promised to take 
me to the Penny Bank to surprise them, 
but at the last minute, he couldn’t go. So 
Daddy said Annette and I might go on the 
train.” 

“I couldn’t go,” said Lissy, “because the 
216 






THE M. S. 


new Penny baby had just come to John and 
Doris. And I was keeping house for 
John.” 

“I wanted Fritz to take part in a show 
we were putting on,” said Joe. “I phoned 
Mother, and she said Mar was coming to 
Brookside and maybe she’d bring him along 
as far as there and leave him to the bag¬ 
gage man the rest of the way. That’s 
how Fritz came to be in the wreck, you 
see.” 

“Annette and I went in the car to the 
station,” Marjory went on. “When I went 
by the jeweler’s, I just had to have my 
pearls to take along. Of course, it was 
foolish. Annette didn’t want me to, but 
I promised her I wouldn’t open them until 
we were safely at the Penny Bank. So she 
went in after them. Only one string was 
done. And she didn’t think to ask which 
217 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


one it was. I put the package into my 
traveling bag. Oh dear, I can’t bear to 
tell you the rest of it.” 

“I’ll tell it, Mar,” said Lissy, looking at 
the eager circle of faces about them. 
“When Mar got to the station they had 
just time to get Fritz into the baggage car. 
Your mother had brought him down, Joe. 
And he acted just like—Fritz. On board 
the train, Mar didn’t once open the pearls. 
But she thinks, maybe, she did have the 
package in her lap.” 

“I took it out and looked at it once or 
twice,” said Marjory, “and wished I could 
open it.” 

“Annette and Mar went into the diner,” 
went on Lissy. “And just at that very min¬ 
ute, before they even sat down at the table, 
came the accident. The traveling bag with 
the pearls in it has never been seen since. 

218 





THE M. S. 


But was it her fault that the pearls were 
lost?” 

Lissy paused, dramatically. 

“You couldn’t help the accident, Mar,” 
said Betty. 

“No,” said Marjory. “But I ought not 
to have taken the pearls with me. Well, 
of course,” she went on, “we couldn’t tell 
which string was lost till we phoned the 
jeweler’s that night. A friend of Daddy’s 
was in the wreck and he got a car and took 
us right back home, that same night. We 
didn’t feel like making a visit just then. 
And we knew how Daddy would worry 
when he heard.” 

“Which string was lost?” asked Martha. 

“The one with the blue stone,” said Mar¬ 
jory. 

“So Mar has given me hers,” said Lissy. 
“But I’ll never want to wear it.” 


219 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“That’s where we began,” said Marjory. 
“Lissy has the string here in the old box. 
You see, she’s going to Grandma Beach’s 
from here, and Granny’ll ask about them. 
Betty can wear them when she’s the prin¬ 
cess.” 

“Would I dare wear such wonderful old 
pearls?” cried Betty. 

“Anything else in that lost traveling bag 
you cared for, Mar?” asked Joe. 

“Nothing except my bead bag,” said 
Marjory. 


220 






CHAPTER XIV 


BALSAM PILLOWS 

rriHEY were still talking about the 
pearls when they loaded the bags 
of balsam into the cars. It was 
Roger who finally changed the subject. 
The subject of the lost pearls wasn’t as new 
to him as it was to most of the others. 

“There’s one thing about it,” he an¬ 
nounced, tumbling a heavy bag of sweet¬ 
smelling balsam into its place. “I can’t 
make a balsam pillow even for Aunt Rose. 
And I’m not going to try.” 

“If I did make one, she’d never want to 
use it,” said Martin slowly. 

“Gee,” cried Billy. “We fellows haven’t 
221 



MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


got to make the pillows, have we?” 

“We’ve done our part cutting balsam,” 
said Tom. 

“I believe you have,” said Betty, drop¬ 
ping down on a bag of balsam. “Why can’t 
the girls make the covers and the boys help 
fill them? I’ll make yours for you, 
Roddy.” 

“I’ll make yours, of course, Martin,” 
said Martha. “Only,” she added, 
“Nancy’ll have to help, I expect.” 

“I’ll make yours, Billy,” Jinny vol¬ 
unteered, “if Nancy’ll show me how.” 

“Rose and I are going to make a rose¬ 
mary pillow,” said Mary. 

Laura agreed to make Paul’s with some 
help from her sister Emily. Susy said she 
would make Tom’s. Lissy kindly offered 
her help to the new boy, Harry. 

“That fixes every one but me,” said Joe 
222 






BALSAM PILLOWS 


gloomily. “Suppose you make mine, 
Mar?” 

“All right, Joey,” agreed Marjory, “if 
Nancy or some one will help me.” 

“Partnership pillows are ever so much 
nicer,” said Polly. “Let’s make ours to¬ 
gether, Norah.” 

“Nancy’s left out,” cried Martha. 
“Nancy hasn’t any partner at all.” 

“As near as I can count,” laughed Nancy, 
“I’m in most of the partnerships. If I’ve 
any time left, I’ve a perfectly splendid idea 
for a pillow of my own.” 

“Miss Russell will be here soon,” said 
Rose, eagerly, “if you do need a partner, 
Nancy.” 

“That makes ten or ’leven pillows,” said 
Mary, who had been trying to count the 
prospective pillows. “That’s enough for a 
beginning. Aunt Rose says every guest she 
223 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


has in this house all summer must make 
a pillow for that room. Isn’t she 
funny?” 

“I think it’s a lovely plan,” said Betty. 
“I’m going to have all my friends make pil¬ 
lows for my house when I have one of my 
own.” 

“Do let’s get started,” cried Marjory, 
“so we can select our covers. Let me sit 
next you, Joey, so we can plan ours.” 

Joe’s car, Aunt Rose’s with Larry driv¬ 
ing, and Mr. Lee’s with his chauffeur, were 
all heaped high with balsam bags and 
members of the M. S. When they reached 
home, they found a great box of different 
colored tapestries, cretonnes, and chintzes 
standing in the den. 

“Don’t let’s let Aunt Rose know which is 
which till they’re all done,” said Lissy. 

So, with much secrecy, whispering, and 
224 






BALSAM PILLOWS 


giggling, the Bungayloafers made their se¬ 
lections. There was much disagreement 
over a delightful pattern of oak leaves and 
acorns—Jinny and Susy both wanting it. 
Polly and Laura, too, had a heated argu¬ 
ment over a pine bough and pine cone pat¬ 
tern. There were the cords of bright col¬ 
ors to be chosen, too. Nancy and Lissy 
mounted guard over these, and, so far as 
possible, prevented too glaring combina¬ 
tions. It was growing late. The mem¬ 
bers of the M. S. were tired. Colors were 
not the only things that clashed. Several 
sets of feelings were out of harmony. But 
the delicious cocoa, sandwiches, and cakes 
served on the porch had a most soothing 
effect. And the guests departed in the Lee 
car, scarcely able to wait for Monday to 
begin on their balsam pillows. 

Still later that night, helping to spread 
225 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


out the balsam to dry, Marjory found a 
Rosemary Twin at her side. 

“That little bead bag, Margie?” she said, 
in a low voice, “the one you lost in the 
wreck—what kind of a bag was it?” 

“Oh, just a little bead bag,” said Mar¬ 
jory. “It had a big, red rose on it and a 
big, blue lily and the darlingest little 
church. And there were blue beads sort 
of fringed across the bottom—you would 
have loved it, Rosemary Dawson.” 

Not long after, Marjory was still kneel¬ 
ing on the fragrant balsam, when a Rose¬ 
mary Twin again asked in an anxious little 
whisper, 

“What kind of a bead bag did you lose, 
Margie, the day of our wreck?” 

“You must be the other one,” laughed 
Marjory. “Well, the bag was one I found 
in Granny's things, Rosemary Dawson. It 
226 






BALSAM PILLOWS 


had a blue church and a blue lily and a red 
rose. Oh, and a gold chain—and my ini¬ 
tials on the clasp. Why?” 

But the Rosemary Twin was gone. 

It was still later on that eventful bal¬ 
sam-scented day. Rose and Mary were 
both brushing out their long, blonde hair. 
At her twenty-fifth stroke, Rose stopped 
short. 

“Mary Dawson,” she said, solemnly. 

Mary was at her twenty-seventh stroke. 

“Well?” she said. 

“It must have been Margie’s bag I car¬ 
ried with me out of the wreck,” said Rose, 
slowly. “She says it had a blue church 
and a blue lily and blue beads and a red 
rose. Didn’t that one? I’ve sort of for¬ 
gotten. And did we leave it in the pine 
hollow where we slept, Mary? If we did, 
of course, it’s spoiled by now.” 

227 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Mary shook her head. 

“I don’t know where we left it, Rose,” 
she said, “but Margie’s bag isn’t in that 
little hollow now. Unless I dreamed it, 
that very same bag, blue church and all, is in 
the tiptoppest bough of the old apple tree 
outside Lissy’s window.” 

Rose stared at Mary’s solemn face. 

“How on earth could it be?” she 
said. 

“I put it there,” said Mary. “That dog 
brought it from somewhere.” 

Both Twins sat down in their nightgowns 
on Mary’s bed. In whispers, Mary told 
all about that dreadful night when all she 
could think of, anyway, was how sick her 
Twin was, and of how she had hidden the 
bag in the apple tree. 

“I’ve never once thought of it since, 
Rose,” she said. “Do you suppose it’s 
228 





BALSAM PILLOWS 


there yet? The leaves were so thick 
around it, no one would ever see it.” 

The Twins stared at each other a long 
minute without speaking. Then Mary told 
the thought that was in each head. 

“We ought to get it for Marjory,” she 
said. 

“It would make up a little to her for 
losing her pearls,” said Rose. 

“Besides, Rose,” said Mary, the pink 
deepening in her cheeks, “I’ve always been 
so ashamed to think we didn’t want Margie 
to come or to be our cousin—” 

“I know it,” said Rose, her cheeks as 
pink as Mary’s as she remembered. “We 
really ought to do something extra nice for 
her to—to—sort of make up, oughtn’t we?” 

“Let’s get the bag,” said Mary. 

“How can we?” 

“We’ll think up a way to-morrow,” said 

229 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Mary. “I’ve twenty-three more strokes to 
give my hair, Rose.” 

“I’ve twenty-five,” said Rose. 

Early next morning, the Twins climbed 
the stairs to the secret room. A thorough 
search of house and porch had not revealed 
Aunt Rose. But here she was, at last, writ¬ 
ing letters. The Twins were unusually 
sober, but Aunt Rose did not notice that. 
Aunt Rose was so much taken up with the 
letter she was writing, that she did not think 
much about either their questions or her 
answers just then. 

“Aunt Rose,” began Rose, “if you’d lost 
something that belonged to some one—” 
“Not just exactly lost it, Rose,” inter¬ 
rupted Mary, “but put it somewhere—” 
“And it was something that the some one 
thought a great deal of—” 

“What would you do about it?” 

230 





BALSAM PILLOWS 


“Get it and give it back,” said Aunt Rose, 
smiling at something she had written. 

“No matter if it was hard to get it?” 

“No matter,” murmured Aunt Rose. 

“It’s like this,” said Mary, wanting to be 
very sure about things. “We—know where 
something is that belongs to Marjory. 
That is, maybe we do. Ought we to get 
it, if we can, and give it back, even if it’s 
going to be a lot of trouble?” 

“Why of course, dear,” said Aunt Rose. 

Rose and Mary went slowly downstairs, 
through the crowd of Bungayloafers on the 
porch, and found a quiet corner in the gar¬ 
den under the big blue-and-white Canter¬ 
bury bells. 

“It isn’t quite as good as the swing at 
home,” said Mary, “but maybe we can think 
it out here.” 

“I wish Father was home,” said Rose. 

231 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Well, he isn’t,” said Mary. “And I’m 
not going to tell any one else about it till 
I know if the bag’s still there. Now, listen, 
Rosie, I’m going to the Penny Bank to¬ 
morrow morning—I can get back to-mor¬ 
row night, can’t I?” 

“I don’t know whether we can or not, 
Mary,” said Rose. “But we can try it. 
We’ll have to tell Aunt Rose though— 
what will she think’s become of us? And 
all the others, too?” 

“Rose,” said Mary solemnly, “we’re 
not going. This is one time when we’ve 
got to be separated. One of us must stay 
here and be both of us—don’t you see? So 
nobody’ll know we’re gone.” 

“How can one of us be both of us, Mary?” 
cried Rose. 

“It can be done,” said Mary. “But of 
232 






BALSAM PILLOWS 


course it’s going to be dreadfully hard 
work.” 

“Well, you’ll have to do it then, Mary,” 
said Rose. “I never can. I’ll go and get 
the bag.” 

“Would you — honestly — just as soon, 
Rose?” cried Mary. 

“I’d heaps rather,” said Rose. “I could 
never be both of us for a whole day.” 

“I’d much rather do that,” said Mary, 
“than go on a train. I can’t bear trains 
since our wreck, Rosie.” 

“I’ll go,” said Rose. “Do please let me, 
Mary.” 

The matter was not quite decided till 
that night, when Betty said, 

“Let’s all get together to-morrow morn¬ 
ing as early as we can and try out our parts, 
a little, for the pageant. Let’s see—Mar’s 
233 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Cinderella, Mary’s Alice in Wonderland— 
who is Rose to be?” 

“I can’t act a bit,” cried Rose. “That’s 
one thing Mary and I are different about.” 

“I’m glad there’s one thing,” laughed 
Betty. “Well, every one come on the 
porch, then, after our work’s done—don’t 
any one forget.” 

“That settles that,” cried Rose, as soon as 
she and Mary were alone. “If you leave 
me to act ‘Alice,’ Mary Dawson, I’ll never 
forgive you. I’m going to get Margie’s 
bag.” 

“We’ll have to go to-morrow,” said 
Mary, “ ’cause after that, there’ll be re¬ 
hearsals every day till Saturday. Are you 
sure you’d just as soon go, Rosie?” 

“I’d love it,” cried Rose. “That is, 
Mary,” she added, “as much as I could 
love anything without you in it. It will 
234 






BALSAM PILLOWS 


be sort of a lark, as Joe says. And it can't 
take very long. I’ll just run up from the 
train to the Penny Bank, tell Aunt Melissa 
about it, get the bag, and run back to the 
station in time for the next train.” 

“Suppose you can’t find it,” said Mary. 

“Well, if I can’t, you couldn’t either, 
Mary. I’ll find it if it’s there, and if it 
isn’t, I’ll just come back and we’ll tell 
Margie all about it—that’s all.” 

Early next morning, the Rosemary Twins 
stole downstairs. Mrs. Wright and her 
daughter, who slept at home, would not be 
there for an hour. They ate a hurried 
breakfast on the kitchen table, for Lissv 
had said something about making johnny- 
cake for breakfast, and she might appear 
at any minute. They cleared the table, 
washed the dishes, and put them away all 
as quickly and quietly as possible. 

235 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“If the boys do hear us,” said Mary, 
“they’ll just think it’s Lissy making her 
johnny-cake.” 

That was just what Joe did think r roused 
from a dream by a faint clatter from the 
kitchen. He rolled over comfortably and 
went back to sleep. 

No one saw the Rosemary Twins as they 
sped down the driveway, and disappeared 
in the direction of Sugar River village. 
No one met them on their way through the 
deserted streets to the early train. There 
was no one they knew at the station. The 
train was coming. Rose had just time to 
buy her ticket and climb aboard. 

“Oh Mary,” she cried, leaning from the 
window, “remember how Joe said the other 
day, he could tell us apart if he half tried? 
We’ll show him, I guess.” 


236 





CHAPTER XV 


MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 


A FTER seeing her Twin off, Mary 
went laggingly along the back 
streets and side streets, trying to 
use up as much of that dreadful day as she 
possibly could. 

“I won’t tell any lies about anything,” 
she decided. But she wondered a little, 
if even George Washington, himself, could 
have carried through such a situation with¬ 
out doing so. 

When at last she arrived at Rosemary 
Bungalow, all the Bungayloafers were on 
the porch waiting for her. 

“Where have you been?” cried Betty. 

237 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Aunt Rose has been looking for you,” 
said Lissy. 

“Breakfast’s all et,” said Jinny. “I 
mean eaten,” she added. 

Since Jinny had dressed like the other 
Bungayloafers, she was trying to talk like 
them, too. It hadn’t mattered much, she 
told Lissy, when she looked so unlike them 
if she did talk unlike them. But now she 
felt that she must live up to her pretty 
clothes. Lissy understood exactly what 
Jinny meant, and she promised to help all 
she could. 

“We had our breakfast early,” said Mary. 

“Where is the other one of you?” cried 
Joe. 

“She’ll be here—by and by,” said Mary. 
“I’ll go and tell Aunt Rose we aren’t lost,” 
she added, making her escape as quickly 
as she could. 


238 






MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

“Hurry,” called Marjory after her, 
“ ’cause we’re arranging our parts.” 

Mary went through the living room and 
dining room to the porch. In the far 
corner of that, she found Aunt Rose. 

“Both of us are all right,” she said, anx¬ 
iously. “There’s something we have to 
do to-day, Aunt Rose. Please don’t ask me 
any questions about anything, whatever 
happens, will you?” 

“Another surprise?” cried Aunt Rose. 
“All right, dear.” 

Aunt Rose went back to her letter. 
Aunt Rose was always answering letters 
nowadays, Mary thought. She went slowly 
along and turned the corner of the porch, 
wondering how she could explain to the 
Bungayloafers why Rose didn’t come. But 
she found things, just now, surprisingly 
easy. The Bungayloafers had just seen a 
239 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Rosemary Twin disappear into the living 
room. Now they saw one coming from 
quite the opposite direction around the 
corner of the porch. So they immediately 
mistook her for the other Twin and hailed 
her with glad shouts. 

“The other one of you has just been 
here,” said Nancy, making room for 
Mary to sit beside her. “And she’ll be 
right back. Which one are you any¬ 
way?” 

“Mary,” said Mary. 

“Well, Mary’s the one we especially 
want just now,” said Betty. “So we won’t 
wait for Rose. You know you’re to be 
‘Alice in Wonderland.’ I’m going to ask 
Mother to send you a frock—a blue frilly 
one. And you must wear white stockings 
and strap slippers. I’ll have Mother send 
a White Rabbit costume, too—we’ll put one 
240 






MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

of the little Pennies in it. Won’t that be 
fine?” 

Mary was so excited over taking the part 
of her adored “Alice” that just for a minute 
she forgot all about her Twin journeying 
alone to the Penny Bank. She had never 
heard of sending straight to New York for 
everything you wanted to help out in the¬ 
atricals and pageants. She and the other 
girls had always thought out costumes and 
made them, as best they could, out of attic 
trunks and spare-room closets. 

“Won’t that be lovely?” she cried. 
“What’s every one else going to wear?” 

“Joe’s going to have a Prince Charming 
costume,” said Betty. “He’s going to wake 
me with a magic kiss—or something that 
will look like it to the audience. Joey’s 
not fond of kissing—even his little sister, 
are you, Joey?” 


241 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Margie’s ‘Cinderella’ part will be gor¬ 
geous,” cried Nancy. “She’s going to wear 
her silvery-gray slippers with buckles.”’ 

“A pumpkin coach for Cinderella,” said 
Betty, making a note of it on her pad. 

“Billy’s decided to be a cowboy,” said 
Susy, from the doorway. “Laura’s just 
phoned. And Tom wants to be a clown.” 

“Cowboy,” said Betty, writing as she 
talked. “And clown. What’s Paul’s?” 

“ ‘Oliver Twist,’ ” said Lissy. 

“Mother’ll send my French peasant cos¬ 
tume,” said Susy, “so I can be ‘The Little 
French Cousin,’ Betty.” Susy’s mother 
had been a really, truly little French girl, 
and all her children had wonderful French 
outfits. 

“Splendid,” said Betty. “Now, every 
one’s arranged for except four—Nancy, 
Norah, Laura, and Rose.” 

242 






MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

“I know,” cried Marjory. “When you 
said ‘four,’ Betty, it came to me. They can 
be the four ‘Little Women.’ ” 

“Good for you, Mar,” cried Betty. 
“Nancy for ‘Meg,’ because she’s oldest; 
Norah for ‘Joe’; Laura with all her fluffs 
for ‘Amy,’ and Rose for ‘Beth.’ ” 

“I hope Rose will be willing to take 
Beth’s part,” said Mary, anxiously. “She 
does hate to act.” 

“Where in the world is she, anyway?” 
cried Marjory. “I never knew her to be 
away from you so long. Have you seen 
Rose?” she asked Aunt Rose, who was just 
coming out. 

“She was on the porch with me just a 
few minutes ago,” said Aunt Rose. “I’m 
looking for Mary.” 

“Mary’s here,” said Betty. 

Mary’s slow dimple came out as she re- 
243 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


alized that Aunt Rose had mistaken her 
for Rose, and so unconsciously helped out 
now. Just then, Father’s noisy, little car 
was seen turning into the driveway, and she 
flew down the steps, down the drive, and 
met him halfway to the porch. He slowed 
down, and Mary climbed up on the run¬ 
ning board. 

“Where’s Mary?” asked Father, as they 
came slowly along. 

“I’m Mary,” she said. “Oh, but I’m 
glad to see you, Father.” 

“I can’t stay,” said Father. “I reached 
home late last night and am off again now. 
But I want a glimpse of you.” 

“Please let me ride a little way with you, 
Father,” said Mary as they passed the foun¬ 
tain. “I—I want to dreadfully.” 

“Where’s Rose?” said Father. “Don’t 
want to go without her, do you?” 

244 






MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

“No, but I’ll have to,” said Mary. 
“Rose is all right, Father, but she isn’t here. 
She’s gone on an errand.” 

Father knew something wasn’t quite 
right with his Twins. Could they have 
had the first quarrel of their lives? 

Just at this minute, they reached the 
porch and the Bungayloafers came swarm¬ 
ing about the car. 

“Father wants me to go a little way with 
him,” said Mary. 

“We’ll pick up Rose,” Father added. 

Mary waved her hand to the Bungay¬ 
loafers and rode away. When they had 
reached the highway, Father asked quietly, 

“You and Rose quarreled, Mary?” 

“Quarreled?” gasped Mary. “Why 
Father John Dawson, of course not. How 
could we? Don’t we always think alike 
about things? It’s—it’s—well, it’s sort of 
245 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


a secret. That is, if Rose was here, prob¬ 
ably we’d tell you—just you and nobody 
else. But you see, I promised I wouldn’t 
tell before I knew I was going to see you. 
Maybe it’s going to be a lovely surprise for 
Margie. And maybe it isn’t. But we 
don’t want to tell till we know.” 

Father wasn’t much wiser after Mary's 
explanation, but he pretended to be. 

“But why so solemn about it, Mary?” 
he asked. 

Mary dimpled. 

“It sounds funny,” she said, “but it’s 
solemn, too—this part that I am going to 
tell you. I’m trying to be both of us while 
Rose is gone, so nobody will know she is 
gone.” 

Father laughed long and loud. 

“I don’t wonder you’re solemn, Mary,” 
he said, “trying to be two. That’s worse 
246 





MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

than when both of you tried to be one, isn't 
it?” 

“Yes,” said Mary, “ ’cause then I had 
Rose to help. But I hope this won’t last 
long, Father. I must get out now and run 
back. When they see me, they’ll think I’m 
Rose—at least, I hope they will.” 

Of course they did. They were so anx¬ 
ious for Rose that when a bareheaded and 
breathless Rosemary Twin came running 
up the driveway, they all rushed to meet 
her. 

“Didn’t Mary and your Father find 
you?” cried Jinny. “Now don’t that beat 
all?” 

“Mary’s gone with your Father for a lit¬ 
tle ride,” explained Nancy. “They 
thought they’d find you.” 

“Miss Rose Dawson has been chosen to 
appear in the coming pageant as ‘Beth 
247 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


March,’ one of the world-renowned ‘Little 
Women,’ ” said Joe. 

“Will she do it?” asked Betty, slipping a 
coaxing arm around Mary’s shoulders. 

“Maybe,” said Mary, dimpling delight¬ 
fully. 

“It won’t be hard,” said Lissy, her arm 
around Mary, too. “Beth was such a quiet, 
little thing, you know. And you’ll wear 
lovely old Civil War costumes. Betty and 
Mar and I have seen it in the ‘movies.’ ” 

“Everything’s all arranged then,” said 
Betty. “I’ll write Mother. And, Rose, 
will you phone the girls—they can tell the 
boys—that we must have rehearsals every 
day till Saturday!” 

Mary was glad to run away to the tele¬ 
phone. She hoped the Bungayloafers 
would break into groups soon. It would 
be easier to be two, if only they would. 

248 







MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

She phoned Laura and Norah and told 
them about their parts and the rehearsals. 

When she came slowly out on the porch 
again, Lissy and Nancy, fixing some cos¬ 
tumes, hailed her gladly as “Mary.” In 
the garden, a minute later, Roger and Joe 
called her “Rose.” Down by the orchard, 
the Marties called, “Hello, Mary!” And 
Aunt Rose, gathering flowers in the garden, 
said, “Well, I’m glad you’re back, Rosie- 
Posie. And you must be starved, you had 
such an early breakfast.” 

By lunch time, Mary scarcely knew who 
she was. She dropped down in Rose’s 
place, not thinking what she did. She and 
Rose often exchanged seats anyway, just 
for fun. But how on earth were both Rose¬ 
mary Twins to have lunch? She hadn’t 
once thought about meals. 

“What have you done with Mary?” 

249 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


asked Lissy, looking at the Twin with the 
empty chair beside her. 

“I keep telling you I’m Mary,” said 
Mary. 

“Where’s Rose?” said Aunt Rose. 

“She’ll be here,” said Mary. Her eyes 
sought the clock. In just a few hours Rose 
would come back. Rose was having the 
hardest part, Mary reminded herself. If 
she could go alone to the Penny Bank, she, 
Mary, ought to be able to get through this 
lunch, somehow. Right after it, she would 
go upstairs and stay all the afternoon and 
let the Bungayloafers think what they 
pleased. 

“Rose was in the garden a few minutes 
ago,” said Roger, positively. “Martin and 
I both spoke to her.” 

“Rose is planning a surprise for us—or 
the Rosemary Twins are,” said Aunt Rose, 
250 




MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

trying to help out. “So we mustn’t ask 
too many questions.” 

Something else helped out just then. 
Mrs. Wright’s face appeared at the door 
that led into the kitchen. 

“Please, Mrs. Norris,” she said, “some 
one to see Jinny.” 

“Me?” said Jinny. 

“Run along, dear, and find out who it is,” 
said Aunt Rose. 

“Is the surprise about to begin?” asked 
Joe, staring at Mary. 

Before Mary could answer, or Jinny 
could run along or do anything more than 
push back her chair, two children wriggled 
around Mrs. Wright’s ample form and 
made straight for Jinny. 

“We’ve come,” cried the stocky, little 
boy. He was the picture of Jinny, even to 
his flaming hair. “Barb and me’s come, 
251 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Jin. Your letter said, ‘Come on Friday/ 
but we had a chanst to come along to-day 
so Mums let us. She and Dawsie’s went 
visitin’.” 

“Here we be, Jin,” cried the little girl. 
She was the picture of Jinny, too, except 
that she was short and stout like her brother. 

Evidently talking came easy to all the 
little Masons. Jinny took her small 
brother and sister upstairs to the morning- 
glory room to make them ready for lunch. 
And Mary, pushing back her chair, said 
she’d go and help. 

A few minutes later a red-cheeked Rose¬ 
mary Twin slipped in from the porch. 

“You’re late, Rose,” said Aunt Rose. 
She drew out a chair. “But never mind— 
you’re just in time to eat with John and 
Barbie.” 

If this Rosemary Twin did not eat much 

252 






MARY TRIES TO BE TWO 

dinner, no one seemed to notice it, for Jinny 
and John and Barbara did all the talking. 
And while it looked to the rest of the Bun- 
gayloafers that the Rosemary Twins were 
both fed as usual, it felt to Mary as if one 
Twin had eaten two, or at least, one and 
a half dinners. 

“Rosie-Posie,” said Joe, after lunch, 
“will you and your Twin accompany Miss 
Virginia Mason, ‘Mr. John Mason, Miss 
Barbara Mason and myself on an auto trip 
to town this afternoon?” 

“Mary can’t go,” cried Jinny, before 
Mary could gasp any answer whatever. 
“She’s just got to read up ‘Alice in Wonder¬ 
land’—she said so upstairs when she was 
helping get John and Barb ready to eat. 
She said she did hope every one would let 
her alone.” 

Mary laughed hysterically. 

253 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“If you want me,” she said, “I’ll go.” 

“Do you know,” said Joe later, as he 
helped Mary into the front seat of his car, 
“you look just like Mary to me.” 

Mary stared at him with startled eyes. 

“Don’t I always?” she asked. 

Joe still eyed Mary so closely that the 
blood came up into her cheeks. 

Suddenly she laughed and her red cheeks 
showed twin dimples. 

“Mary—hates—boys, Joey,” she said, 
slowly. 

“You don’t look as if you hated me,” said 
Joe. 

“I don’t,” said Mary, promptly. 

“Then you must be Rose, I suppose,” 
said Joe. But Mary thought he did not 
look fully convinced. 


254 






CHAPTER XVI 


PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 


R OSE waved her hand to her Twin 
at Sugar River station. She 
watched as long as possible the 
forlorn, familiar, little figure plodding 
along homeward. Then she decided she 
might as well get what enjoyment she could 
out of her journey. It was really just the 
kind of an adventure she liked. If only 
Mary could have gone, too. Rose 
chuckled a little as she pictured poor Mary 
trying to be two in that careless, curious 
crowd of Bungayloafers. 

“Mary’ll do it somehow,” she decided. 
It was fun watching people, wondering 
where they had come from, and where they 
255 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


were going. It was fun, too, to watch the 
green country-side slip past the windows. 
It was exciting to roll into towns, with now 
and then a city, and watch the crowds get 
on and off. After a while in one of the 
towns a big express train rushed up behind 
them, rushed by and rushed straight on, 
never once pausing for breath. 

When they went on their leisurely way 
again, Rose found she was getting hungry. 
The next time the conductor came along, 
she stopped him. 

“What time do we reach Brookside?” 
she asked him, in her most grown-up man¬ 
ner. 

“Three-thirty,” said the conductor. 

“Three-thirty?” cried Rose. “Are you 
very sure, please? Because Mary thought 
Fd get there in time for dinner.” 

“The express gets there at two—it’s just 
256 






PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

passed us,” said the conductor, as he went 
on. 

“And he knows every single thing about 
trains, of course,” Rose concluded. 

She drank some water. Water would 
keep you from being too hungry she had 
heard somewhere. It did not seem to do 
much good, however. She bought some 
chocolate bars of the train boy and they 
helped some. As she munched, she won¬ 
dered if she hurried as fast as she could, 
if she could not find the bag and still get 
back to Mary that night. She must— 
Mary could never go on being two for more 
than that one day. 

It was a tired, hungry, anxious Twin 
who left the train at Brookside that after¬ 
noon at about four o’clock—almost a half 
hour late. Rose thought of Mary among 
the Bungayloafers on the big, cool porch. 

257 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Already, maybe, she was half expecting her 
home. She must hurry. She ran up the 
hilly street from the station, but when she 
turned the corner and began to climb the 
sandy hill to the Penny Bank she had to 
stop running. It was so hot, she could not 
even walk fast. She had to walk slowly. 
At last, however, she came in sight of the 
Penny Bank. On the porch were Aunt 
Melissa and a pretty, young woman with 
a baby in her lap. They saw hei 1 and after 
just an instant of surprised wonder, Aunt 
Melissa dropped her knitting and came 
hurrying down the walk to meet her. 

“It’s one of those blessed Twins,” she 
said. “But for the life of me I don’t know 
which one.” 

“I’m Rose,” said Rose. “And please, 
Aunt Melissa, may I go right up into Lissv 
Penny’s bedroom, where Mary slept, and 

258 




PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

look for something she’s left there, and 
then go right straight back home again?” 

“Why bless your heart, dear,” cried Aunt 
Melissa. “Do sit down and cool off. It’s 
too hot to hurry about anything to-day. 
This is Mrs. John Penny, Rose—the Doris 
Lissy talks so much about. And this, if 
you please, is Miss Geraldine Penny.” 

Rose was glad to drop down on the porch. 
She was really too tired and hot to do any¬ 
thing else. 

She told the whole story to Aunt Melissa 
and Doris Penny. She and Mary had de¬ 
cided that would be the best thing to do. 
Geraldine Penny cooed and gurgled and 
gazed at her with big pansy-blue eyes, like 
Lissy’s, as she talked. 

“Well, just to think of that!” cried Aunt 
Melissa. “Margie’s little bead bag that 
her Granny gave her. Lissy told us it was 
259 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


lost. I wonder if it’s up in the tree yet. 
’Twill be a miracle if ’tis and if it isn’t 
spoiled. Wasn’t it a dreadful pity the 
child lost her pearls? I do hope the old 
Granny’ll never know about it.” 

But when Aunt Melissa realized from 
Rose’s story that the little girl had had noth¬ 
ing to eat since breakfast, she forgot bead 
bags, pearls, and everything else of that 
nature. She went at once and brought out 
bread and butter, milk, fruit, and cookies. 
And Rose was so hungry, she decided she 
would eat first and then look for the bag. 

She felt much better after her lunch and 
rest. She and Aunt Melissa climbed up 
the dark, narrow stairs to Lissy’s room. It 
was dark, cool and quiet. Doris and Ger¬ 
aldine had the downstairs bedroom, Aunt 
Melissa said. 

“No one has slept here since you went 

260 




PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

away,” she added. She bustled about, 
rolled up a shade, pushed up a window and 
opened a blind. The warm summer air 
came in, sweet with clover. 

“It was this window,” said Rose, “by the 
big apple tree.” 

Aunt Melissa put up the shade of that 
window. She opened it and both blinds. 
The blinds swished out through green 
boughs. 

“Mary said to climb up on the sill,” 
said Rose, “lean out, and look straight 
up.” 

Rose climbed up on the sill, Aunt Melissa 
holding fast to her for fear she would fall. 
She leaned out, tipped back her head and 
looked up. At first she saw nothing but 
the hot blue of the sky through a green 
tracery of leaves and small, hard, green 
apples. But peering anxiously here and 
261 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


there, at last she caught a gleam of gold 
that was not all sunshine. 

“I do believe I see it, Aunt Melissa, 
she cried. “And I can reach it.” 

Another minute, and Rose held the pretty 
bead bag in her hands. There were the 
red rose, the blue lily, the blue church with 
its black steeple, and the green trees. But 
almost all the blue fringe was gone. 

“It isn’t hurt much, is it, Aunt Melissa?” 
she said. “And won’t Mary be glad? 
And Margie? Oh, but I’m glad I 
came.” 

Aunt Melissa was chuckling to herself 
as she looked at the bag. 

“Where do you suppose some of that 
blue-bead fringe is this very minute?” she 
said. “Bob pointed it out to me the other 
day. It’s woven into a bird’s nest down in 
the old lilac bush. You shall see it for 
262 






PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

yourself, dear. We couldn’t think what on 
earth it was—just a thread of bright blue 
mixed in moss and dried mud and other 
things. Let’s just show the little bag to 
Doris, and then we’ll put it in a box and do 
it up carefully before the little Pennies 
come home. They’ll be crazy to see it and 
some of the beads on the church-steeple 
are just ready to fall out now.” 

By the time Aunt Melissa had finished, 
she and Rose were back on the porch. 
Doris touched the old bag with gentle fin¬ 
gers. 

“Tell Lissy and Margie about the little 
bird who helped herself to the fringe, 
Rose,” she said. “They’ll just love 
that.” 

Rose waited impatiently while Aunt 
Melissa did up the bag. 

“I’d love to wait and see the little Pen- 


263 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


nies,” she said, “but I mustn’t. Mary will 
be so anxious. I must go right straight 
back, Aunt Melissa.” 

“Not till after supper,” said Aunt Me¬ 
lissa. 

“You can’t go back to Sugar River to¬ 
night,” said Doris. “The local’s gone and 
the express doesn’t stop there, you know. 
You’ll just have to stay with us all night. 
Is that so terrible?” she added, at sight of 
Rose’s face. 

“Oh, I just can’t stay all night,” said 
Rose. “You see, Mary can’t go on being 
both of us any longer. Don’t you see she 
can’t.” 

“We’ll call her up,” said Doris, “and 
you can tell her all about things.” 

But when Doris was given Rosemary 
Bungalow, Mrs. Wright’s voice said Mary 
Dawson was out. 


264 






PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

“Of course, she’s out,” cried Rose. “No 
matter how much she’d want to stay home 
and wait for me to come, she’d have to 
keep going somewhere—first as Mary, then 
as Rose. Oh, poor Mary!” 

“But why doesn’t she tell them?” asked 
Doris. 

“We didn’t want Margie to know till 
we knew whether the bag was safe or not,” 
explained Rose anxiously. Then a long- 
lost dimple suddenly showed itself, and she 
added, “and then too, it is such fun to tease 
the Bungayloafers.” 

“She’ll tell your Aunt Rose and she’ll 
help out,” said Doris. “Anyhow, don’t 
worry, dear—look, here are the little Pen¬ 
nies.” 

The next minute, Rose was surrounded 
by little Pennies. And before long, there 
was.a wonderful supper. Afterward, Doris 
265 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


called up Rosemary Bungalow again, but 
Mary Dawson was still out. 

In spite of a baby to be undressed and 
put to bed, in spite of all the devoted little 
Pennies, it was a long evening. Just be¬ 
fore bedtime, Mary Dawson was reported 
in. And in a minute, her anxious little 
voice talked to Rose. 

“Every one’s on the porch,” it said, “so 
they can’t hear. Nobody knows yet, Rose, 
unless maybe Joe suspects. But I feel like 
a dozen, at least. You see, John and 
Barbie came to-day—and that has helped. 
Joe took them and Jinny and me to ride, 
and we stopped at the farm for supper. 
Of course, Cynthy thought you were at 
the bungalow. And the Bungayloafers 
thought we were both at the farm. And 
it was dark when we got home. But how 
I’ll manage to-morrow, I don’t know. Do 
266 






PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

come as early as you can, Rosie. I’m so 
glad the bag was all right.” 

In spite of Trixy’s warm little body 
snuggled up to her, in spite of getting up 
very early to catch the first train back to 
Sugar River, that was the longest night 
Rose had known, since those just after the 
wreck when she had been separated from 
Mary. But when she was dressed and 
downstairs, Aunt Melissa had a good 
breakfast all ready for her. 

“And- I’ve found a chance for you to go 
back to Sugar River in a car,” she said. 
Hal Green’s going and he’ll take you. It’ll 
be quicker and cooler—it’s going to be an¬ 
other hot day.” 

So it happened that Rose reached Sugar 
River much earlier than Mary expected 
she would. She left Hal Green in the vil¬ 
lage and ran all the way to Rosemary Bun- 
267 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


galow. Inside the yard, sitting in a bit 
of shrubbery, she found a disconsolate 
Mary. She was knitting something out of 
dull-blue wool. Beside her on the rustic 
seat was an open copy of “Alice in Wonder¬ 
land.” 

“Oh Rose,” she cried, dropping her knit¬ 
ting with a clatter of knitting needles. 
“How did you get here now? They’ve 
called and called us—in another minute, 
I’d just had to ’fess up. Have you the 
bag?” 

“Oh yes,” cried Rose, rapturously return¬ 
ing Mary’s hug, then dropping down a min¬ 
ute to get her breath. “Doesn’t any one 
know, Mary?” 

“Aunt Rose does,” said Mary. “You 
see, Rose, she came into our room last 
night. She had just remembered what we 
asked her about Sunday morning, when she 

268 






PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 


was writing that letter, and how we had 
said something would be hard to do. When 
she saw there was only one of us there, she 
was so worried that I told her all about 
everything. She was dreadfully anxious 
at first to think you had gone all alone, 
but when I said you had phoned and the 
bag was found and everything, she laughed 
and said she’d help me keep our secret till 
you came to-day. And she has. But no 
one could have kept it much longer. Be¬ 
cause, last night, Lissy took her box of 
pearls up into the secret room to show them 
to us. Aunt Rose wouldn’t let her take 
them downstairs for fear they’d get lost, 
or something. Lissy wanted every one 
there when she opened the box—it’s that 
queer one, you know. But Joe and Jinny 
and John and Barbie and I were all gone, 
so she waited till this morning. And this 
269 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


morning, every one was there but you. 
And I said I would come out and look for 
you. But I knew you couldn’t get here 
till the train did—and I was most des¬ 
perate.” 

Mary stopped at last entirely out of 
breath. 

“Well, it’s all over now,” said Rose. 
“Let’s go in and give Margie the bag and 
tell them everything. What are you knit¬ 
ting for, Mary?” 

“I had to do something,” said Mary. 
“And I found this wool in my knitting bag. 
The rest was in the suit case and lost in 
the wreck you know, Rose. But Aunt Rose 
thought maybe there was enough to make 
Jinny a dear, little slip-on. I wound the 
extra skein.” 

“Well, here you two are at last,” cried 
Nancy’s voice from the porch. “We were 

270 






PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 


all just turning out to search the grounds 
for you.” 

Across the porch, through the living 
room, up the stairs, one flight, two flights, 
went the Bungayloafers, into the secret 
room. Every one was there, now, except 
John and Barbie. 

“Never mind them,” said Jinny. She 
put the th in “them” importantly to match 
the crisp green and white gingham she was 
wearing. Jinny really looked pretty this 
morning. She wore a quaint little break¬ 
fast cap that Betty had given her. It was 
just the color of the green in her dress, and 
it hid most of her flaming tresses. “They 
don’t know anything about pearls, anyhow. 
Barb’s never heard of ’em—them. And 
John don’t care for a single living thing 
except machines and such things.” 

But the pearls had to wait after all, for 
271 




MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


the Rosemary Twins looked so radiant and 
excited that every one knew at once that 
something delightful had happened or was 
going to happen. 

“What is it, Rosemary Dawson?” cried 
Betty. 

“I’ve been gone a whole day—and not 
one of you has known it,” cried Rose. 
Then right in the midst of all the questions 
that came from all sides, she held a small 
paper package high over her head. 

“You can’t guess what I have in this 
package,” she said. 

“But where have you been, Rose?” said 
Betty, “if you are Rose. And how could 
you have gone anywhere at all for a day 
and we not know it?” 

“I’ve been both of us, Betty,” said Mary, 
hopping up and down in her excitement. 
“Honest I have. Rose has been to the 
272 




PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

Penny Bank, to find something we left 
there—oh, listen, everybody!” 

“It’s yours, Margie,” said Rose. She 
dropped the package into Marjory’s hands. 

“Mine?” cried Marjory. 

“Open it, quick,” cried eager voices on 
all sides of Marjory. 

Marjory pulled off string and paper. 

“My bead bag,” she cried, staring at 
Rosemary Dawson. “But how could you 
have found it? It was lost in the wreck.” 

“It wasn’t lost,” said Rose. “It slipped 
out of your chair, Margie. We found it 
when we went to look for Mary’s ball of 
wool. I had just picked it up when the 
crash came. And when I came to myself 
—oh, ever so long afterward—I was still 
clutching it.” 

“I suppose we dropped it under the trees 
where we slept that night,” explained 
273 







MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Mary. “And probably that dog found it. 
Anyway, he brought it to me one night 
when I was up in your bed, Lissy. And I 
tried to hide it, but he kept finding it. So 
finally, I put it up in the apple tree—you 
know how close it is to the window. And 
it’s been up there ever since.” 

“Bless his heart,” said Betty, softly. She 
was thinking of the old dog she and Joe 
had known and loved for so many years. 
“He always does take part in things, some¬ 
how, doesn’t he?” said Joe. 

“We never dreamed it was yours, of 
course, Margie,” Rose was saying, “till the 
day you told about it.” 

“I’d forgotten everything about it any¬ 
way,” said Mary, “till then. And then, I 
was so afraid it wasn’t there or was spoiled 
or something. So Rose went—and I stayed 
—why, what is it, Mar?” 

274 





PEARLS—LOST AND FOUND 

Marjory had opened the bag and dived 
down into it. Now, she brought out a 
small, square package. She tore off its 
wrappers, disclosing a white box. Inside 
the box was a blue velvet case. And in¬ 
side the case, on a lining of soft, blue satin, 
their one blue stone glinting in the sun¬ 
shine, lay the lost string of pearls. 


275 






CHAPTER XVII 


PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 


“rT^HE pearls,” cried Marjory, star¬ 
ing at the lovely pink-white 
things. “Where on earth did 
they come from?” 

“The pearls?” cried Mary. “Oh Mar¬ 
gie, we never knew they were in the bag.” 

“You never said they were in the bag, 
Mar,” cried Rose, at the same instant. 

“I didn’t know it myself,” said Marjory. 
She was gazing fascinated at the string of 
pearls. “How did they get into the bag? 
Does any one know?” 

“You said you had the package out of the 
traveling bag,” said Joe. “Didn’t you 
276 



PEARLS— FOUND AND LOST 

just slip it into the bead bag, Mar, and for¬ 
get all about it?” 

“That’s just exactly what I did,” cried 
Marjory, as memory slowly brought it 
all back to her. “I remember now. I 
thought they’d be safer there. Then I sup¬ 
posed, of course, I put the bead bag back 
into the traveling bag. And I didn’t. It 
slid out of my lap. Oh, I am dreadfully 
careless. Daddy is right.” 

Marjory gazed from one to another of 
the Bungayloafers, with great, distressed, 
dark eyes. Joe’s smiled back into 
them. 

“Well, Mar,” he said, “it was a good 
thing, this time, that you were careless. 
If you had put the pearls into the traveling 
bag, you would never have seen them again. 
And if you’d put the bead bag into the 
traveling bag, you would never have seen 
277 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


it again—or the pearls, either. So there 
you are.” 

Every one laughed. 

“But just the same, I’m never going to 
be careless again,” cried Marjory. “Even 
if it did woik this time, Joey, it wouldn’t 
next.” 

Marjory spun round and round the table, 
the pearls glinting softly, whenever they 
caught the light. 

“Do put them away somewhere, Mar,” 
said Lissy, nervously. “I expect every 
minute they’ll fade away and be lost 
again.” 

“I’ll put them just where they belong— 
on your neck,” cried Marjory. “Oh, won’t 
Daddy be glad? I’ll phone him just as 
soon as he gets home.” 

“Now let’s all look at Marjory’s,” said 
Lissy, one hand holding fast to the string 
278 






PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 

of pearls around her neck, “with the topaz 
in the clasp.” 

Lissy knelt down on the floor beside the 
low table where the old box had waited its 
turn. She turned its tiny key in the lock. 
Up flew the cover. There was nothing to 
see inside, except the faded, silk lining. 

“Now watch,” said Lissy, softly. “The 
key goes in again—so. Then you push— 
so. Then up flies the bottom of the box, 
lining and all, and in the space underneath, 
all wrapped up in tissue paper, you’ll see 
Margie’s string of pearls.” 

Lissy had only pretended to push the key 
as she talked. But now, with every one 
craning to catch th'e first glimpse of the 
second string of pearls, she really pushed. 
Up flew the false bottom of the old box just 
as she had said it would. But the extra 
space was quite empty! 

279 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Why, where are they?” cried Lissy. 
She sprang up, shaking the box and turning 
it upside down. “Did some one take them 
out—just for a joke?” 

She looked from one face to another. 
Each one was almost as anxious as her own. 

“Of course not, Lis,” cried Joe. “No 
one of us would play such a joke as that 
on you. They must have slipped out in 
your room.” 

“How could they slip out, Joey?” said 
Lissy, slowly. “The box has been locked 
ever since I came. And no one but Mar 
and I know where I’ve kept the key. Be¬ 
sides, after I brought it up here last night, 
I opened it, took out the pearls, wrapped 
them up, and put them in again. Didn’t I, 
Mar?” 

“We wanted to be sure they were all 
280 







PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 

right,” said Marjory. “I saw Lissy put 
them in again and close the box.” 

“Mar’s are found and Lrssy’s are lost,” 
cried Martha. 

“Oh, but they can’t be lost,” said Aunt 
Rose. “They must be around here some¬ 
where.” 

“Were they up here all night, Lis?” 
asked Joe. 

“Yes,” said Lissy. “And I did leave the 
key in the box, Joe. Because both doors 
of this room are always locked, you know. 
I thought it would be safe.” 

“Was the outside door locked?” 

“Yes,” said Mary. “I came up after we 
came home, Joe, to bring the rosemary pil¬ 
low. I locked the door, myself, and gave 
the key back to Nancy.” 

“Mercy!” cried Nancy. “Don’t look at 
281 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


me like that, Joe. I didn’t take the pearls, 
did I?” 

“Of course not,” said Joe. “Probably 
no one has taken them. But where are 
they? We’ve all got to think and think 
hard.” 

Every one had something to say. Could 
this have happened? Could that? Had 
some one come in from outside? Even if 
they had, as Joe said, no one would have 
known how to use the little key the second 
time. 

“You told how at the balsam picnic,” 
Roger reminded Lissy. 

“But no member of the M. S. would have 
opened the box,” cried Aunt Rose, “even if 
he remembered how.” 

In the midst of the talk, Jinny had dis¬ 
appeared. No one had noticed it. But 
now, on the stairs outside, came the sound 
282 






PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 

of feet—feet that hurried and feet that 
dragged. Jinny’s voice scolded, John’s 
voice blubbered. Next minute, into the se¬ 
cret room, burst Jinny dragging with her a 
dirty, disgusted John. 

“There,” panted Jinny. She deposited 
John as near Lissy as she could get him. 
Then she straightened her green cap. “Tell 
her what you did—every last word of it, 
John Mason.” 

Johnny still blubbered. Then came 
something that sounded like, “I didn’t do 
nothin’.” 

“Put y S ’ on your words and tell ’em,” 
said Jinny, sternly. 

“What did you do, dear?” said Lissy, 
gently. She was used to small, blubbering 
boys. 

“I just turned the key ’round,” wailed 
John. 


283 







MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“He just can’t seem to leave keys alone,” 
said Jinny. “He has locked and unlocked 
everything in this house already, over and 
over.” 

“Go on, Johnny, please,” said Lissy. 
“What did you do then?” 

“The box opened and I put the key back 
in,” said Johnny. “Honest I did. I 
pushed it in good and hard so it wouldn’t 
never get lost. And the whole bottom 
flewed right up.” 

“Yes,” said Marjory, breathlessly, “and 
what then?” 

“Why, I tried it over again,” said John. 

“Then what?” said Jinny, sternly. “Tell 
’em every bit, John.” 

“I just locked it all up again,” said 
Johnny. “I left it just like I found it, just 
like Jinny says I must always. I did, hon¬ 
est. What makes the bottom come up?” 

284 






PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 

he added, his eyes going back to the fasci¬ 
nating key. 

“But where are the pearls, Johnny?” 
cried Marjory. 

“Didn’t see no pearls,” said Johnny. 

“He don’t know nothin’ about pearls,” 
cried Jinny, forgetting her own g's in her 
indignation. “Course not—it’s just keys 
John’s after. ’Tain’t what’s locked up in¬ 
side of things. Johnny ain’t no thief, I’ll 
have you understand.” 

Jinny tossed her green-capped head. 
Her eyes snapped dangerously. 

“But maybe he just turned the box over, 
or something—try to remember, John, what 
you did,” begged Lissy. 

“Course I turned it over ’n’ over ’n’ over,” 
said John, “else how could I find how it 
worked? I ain’t never seen such a little 
key before,” he added. 

285 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Every one began to search for the lost 
pearls. Books were moved about. The 
wastebasket was emptied. Some of the 
Bungayloafers got down to peer under the 
table and under chairs. Others searched 
behind the new pillows. 

Into the midst of this strange crowd, came 
the other members of the M. S. 

“What on earth are you playing?” cried 
Polly, just a breath ahead of Billy’s “Some¬ 
body lost something?” 

“Lissy’s string of pearls is gone,” said 
Marjory. 

“The ones she told about the other day,” 
explained Roger. 

Of course, the newcomers had to be told 
all about everything that had happened dur¬ 
ing the day before and that morning. Af¬ 
terwards, there was a great deal of talk. 
Every one had some opinion to offer. 

286 






PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 

Laura wanted to know if they trusted all 
their help. And when Aunt Rose assured 
her that they did, Tom’s cousin Harry re¬ 
minded them that gypsies had gone through 
town the day before. 

“Don’t worry, Lissy,” Paul said to Lissy 
who sat, quite pale and quiet, beside Mar¬ 
jory, “the M. S. will find them for you.” 

“We must have our rehearsal,” said 
Betty, with a glance at her wrist watch. 
“Why, it’s lunch time, now.” 

“We’ve brought our lunch, Betty,” cried 
Norah. Don’t you remember? We’re 
going to picnic in the woods and have an 
outdoor rehearsal afterward?” 

“Of course,” said Betty. “I’d forgotten 
everything but the pearls. The costumes 
have come from New York,” she added. 

While the others all flocked down to the 
den to see the big box of costumes that Mrs. 

287 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Bernard had sent from the city, Lissy and 
Marjory lingered behind. Lissy took the 
string of pearls off, put them into their blue 
case, the blue case into the white box, and 
the white box into Marjory’s hands. 

“They’re yours now,” she said. “Any¬ 
way till yours are found. That’s exactly 
what you said when mine were lost, Mar,” 
she added, as Marjory shook her head. 

“Let’s give them to Aunt Rose,” said 
Marjory, “to keep for us.” 

After the rehearsal that afternoon, while 
the others all talked about the coming 
pageant, Joe came back to the bungalow. 
He went upstairs into the secret room. It 
was flooded with late afternoon sunshine. 
Shadows of leaves and twigs danced across 
the gay assortment of pillows. 

Joe sat down and tried to think, all by 
himself, what had, or might have, hap- 
288 






PEARLS—FOUND AND LOST 

pened. The box of pearls had been on the 
table. John had tipped it bottomside up. 
Maybe he had dropped it once or twice. 
Anyhow, the pearls must have fallen out. 
All wrapped up in soft paper, almost any¬ 
thing might have happened to them. They 
might have been stepped on, brushed up, 
even burned up. Or John might have put 
them into his pocket—not thinking anything 
about them at all. 

“My father’d find them, somehow,” said 
Joe to himself. “I must do my best.” 


289 






CHAPTER XVIII 


A RED PIGTAIL 

“OSEMARY DAWSON,” said 
Nancy’s voice outside the 

-Ml. m. Twins’ door late that same 
night, “let me in a minute, will you?” 

“I’ve just finished my pillow,” she ex¬ 
plained, a minute later, “and I want to take 
it up to the secret room to-night. I want 
some one to go up with me and help hunt 
for Lissy’s pearls. Martie’s sound asleep 
and the others, too, so far as I can make 
out.” 

“Mary’s been reading to me from ‘Little 
Women’ to help me take Beth’s part,” said 
Rose. “That’s why we aren’t undressed 
yet.” 


290 


A RED PIGTAIL 

“We’ll have to go by the outside stair¬ 
way,” whispered Nancy, as they went out 
into the hall. “My key unlocks that door, 
you know.” 

It was very dark as the three girls crept 
up the stairs to the tower. Halfway up, 
Rose nearly fell over Joe sitting there all 
by himself. 

“I’m trying to think what could have be¬ 
come of those pearls,” he explained. 

“Come on—we’re going to look for 
them,” said Nancy. 

The four went on quietly, Rose still 
ahead with the key, Mary close behind 
her, Nancy with her pillow, and Joe, 
last of all. On the top stair, Rose 
paused. 

“Sh-sh,” she said, warningly, “there’s 
some one here.” 

Mary joined her on the landing. Joe 

291 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


and Nancy just behind looked over their 
heads. 

The upper part of the tower door was 
glass. A solitary light had been turned on 
in the room, so the four outside could see 
everything inside plainly. Under the light 
stood Jinny. She was still wearing the 
green and white gingham and the favorite, 
green cap. She was fumbling about on the 
table. Just at this minute, she knocked off 
a big pair of shears which fell noisily to the 
floor. Jinny started nervously with a quick 
movement, to hide something she held in 
her hand. She listened a minute, then like 
a flash she picked up the shears and ran 
across the room. She tossed the new bal¬ 
sam pillows about wildly till she found the 
odd-looking green and yellow one she had 
made for Billy and herself. She ripped 
open one corner and thrust whatever she 
292 




A RED PIGTAIL 

had in her hand down into it. Then she 
stole hurriedly out of the room, closing the 
door noiselessly. They heard the key turn 
in the lock. They heard her light footsteps 
as she went downstairs to the morning- 
glory room. 

All this had happened so swiftly that the 
quartet on the landing had not moved. 
Mary and Rose had clutched each other. 
Joe’s hand had closed down over Nancy’s 
arm. 

When everything was dark and quiet 
again, they still stood staring at each 
other. 

“She borrowed my key just before I came 
out,” said Joe, slowly. 

“But Jinny wouldn’t take the pearls,” 
said Rose. 

“Of course she wouldn’t,” said Mary. 
“You mustn’t think she would, Joe.” 

293 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“I don’t think she would,” said Joe, “un¬ 
less—” 

“Unless what, Joe?” cried Nancy, nerv¬ 
ously. 

“Unless she found that John did some¬ 
thing with them and she wanted to shield 
him,” said Joe. 

“She’d make him tell,” cried Nancy. 
“It can’t be that, Joe.” 

“Maybe it wasn’t the pearls she had at 
all,” said Rose. 

“Maybe not,” said Joe. 

“What could it have been?” said Marv. 

“I don’t know,” said Joe. 

The four went slowly back down the 
stairs, Nancy carrying her forgotten pillow 
along. “What shall we do about it?” the 
Rosemary Twins asked together at the foot 
of the stairs. 

“I don’t know,” said Joe again. “Any- 
294 






A RED PIGTAIL 

way, don’t let’s tell a soul about it, yet. I 
can’t believe Jinny would do anything like 
that, even to help John out. It isn’t a bit 
like her.” 

“She might not realize how valuable they 
were,” said Nancy. “Jinny hasn’t known 
much about pearls in her life, any more 
than I did when I was a little girl.” 

“Jinny’d tell if she knew anything about 
them,” said Rose. “I know she would.” 

“Jinny always tells things right straight 
out,” said Mary. “Please don’t think 
Jinny took them, Joe.” 

“I don’t,” said Joe. “Once when I was 
just a kid and didn’t have any friends, 
every one in school except Betty thought 
I’d taken a purse. I hadn’t, of course. 
But I’ve never forgotten how I felt when 
every single thing looked as if I had. I 
know Jinny didn’t take the pearls, but if 
295 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


she’s trying to help John out some way, I 
want to help her—that’s all.” 

“John might have dropped them and 
stepped on them and smashed them—or 
something,” said Nancy, excitedly. “And 
Jinny wouldn’t know what to do.” 

The Rosemary Twins had dreadful 
dreams that night in which pearls, pillows, 
and keys were strangely confused. 

“I do wish Lissy Penny’d left her old 
pearls at home,” said Rose, crossly, as they 
dressed the next morning. 

“There’s the pageant, too,” said Mary. 
“And I can’t seem to give my mind to 
being ‘Alice.’ All I can think of is 
pearls.” 

Every one was at the breakfast table when 
the Rosemary Twins slipped into their 
chairs. Jinny again wore her green cap. 
Mary and Rose could not help thinking she 
296 






A RED PIGTAIL 

did look red-faced and uncomfortable some 
way. Just as quickly as she could, she ex¬ 
cused herself and went upstairs to begin 
her work there. Rose looked at Mary 
anxiously. Mary looked anxiously back. 
Both looked at Nancy. She was looking 
at them, her droll little face worried. 
Even Joe’s good-natured face was so¬ 
ber. 

At lunch, every one was unusually quiet. 
Marjory had just talked with her father, 
telling him that while Lissy’s string of 
pearls had been found, her own had disap¬ 
peared. Aunt Rose, looking at the row of 
sober faces on either side of the table, sud¬ 
denly discovered that Jinny still wore the 
green cap. 

“A cap’s all right enough at breakfast, 
Jinny,” she said. “But at lunch, I’d rather 
see your hair.” 


297 





MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Yes’m,” said Jinny. Her face turned 
almost as red as the one lock that showed 
under the cap. 

Again Rose and Mary looked at Joe and 
Nancy. And of all the Bungayloafers, 
their faces and Jinny’s were the most un¬ 
comfortable. 

That afternoon, a dress rehearsal took 
place on the back lawn. Jinny was there 
as Topsy. A funny, kinky wig now hid her 
despised red tresses. She did not take her 
part very well. She was not the only one. 
Prince Charming forgot the important kiss 
until an indignant princess sat up and re¬ 
minded him of it. And Alice made the 
Mad Hatter very mad, indeed, by asking 
him suddenly to think hard and see if he 
could not remember whether or not he had 
dropped the pearls out of Lissy’s box. On 
the whole, the rehearsal was a failure. It 
298 






A RED PIGTAIL 

lasted so late, the town members of the 
M. S. had to run home. And the Bungay- 
loafers, themselves, ate dinner in their story 
book costumes, because there was not time 
to change them. 

“The lost pearls are going to spoil our 
pageant,” said Betty. “We can’t think of 
anything else.” 

Soon after dinner, Jinny went upstairs, 
saying she was going to put John and Bar¬ 
bie to bed. “There’s going to be a thunder 
storm, and they’re dreadful scared,” she ex¬ 
plained. She did not come down again. 
The rest of the Bungayloafers sat out on 
the porch, watching the slow approach of 
the storm and talking softly about the 
pearls and the pageant. Just before the 
storm broke, Father’s car dashed up the 
drive. 

And to every one’s surprise, in it, with 
299 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


him, was Miss Russell. He had been near 
her home, he explained, and had brought 
her along. He would not stop a minute 
because he wanted to get home before the 
storm broke. 

There was so much to tell Miss Russell 
and so much to show her inside the bunga¬ 
low, that all the Bungayloafers, except Joe, 
went in. He sat there a long time while 
the storm broke, drenched everything, and 
rumbled along on its way. Joe was so deep 
in his problem of where the pearls had 
gone, that he scarcely noticed the storm. 
Then all at once, instead of the rain, he 
heard footsteps on the wet grass. Looking 
up quickly, he saw Jinny, still in her Topsy 
wig, steal around the corner of the house. 
The next minute, although he could not see 
her, he was sure he heard her on the out¬ 
side stairway to the tower. Without a 
300 






A RED PIGTAIL 

word, he went into the house, where just in¬ 
side the door, he met Nancy. 

“She borrowed my key,” she said. 
“Every one’s gone to bed except Aunt Rose 
and Miss Russell—they’re in the den talk¬ 
ing. Let’s go up the inside stairway.” 

At the foot of the stairs, the Rosemary 
Twins joined them. 

“What is it?” they cried. 

Although the four tried to be very quiet, 
Betty’s door flew open, then Marjory’s. 
And the next minute, all the Bungayloafers 
were crowding about the foot of the stair¬ 
way to the secret room. Those behind 
pushed the four ahead straight on up the 
stairs to the little landing at the top. 

“You might as well go in, Nance,” said 
Joe. “We couldn’t keep them out now, 
anyway.” 

Nancy unlocked the door. She and Joe 
301 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


were pushed into the secret room, just in 
time to see Jinny straighten herself up and 
drop the green and yellow pillow. As the 
others came trooping in, she turned and 
faced them. Her face was red and one fly¬ 
away red lock peeped out wildly from un¬ 
der the Topsy wig, now very much on one 
side of her head. 

“Well, what do you all want?” she de¬ 
manded. 

Rose and Mary crossed the room and 
took their places one on each side of Jinny. 
Nancy and Joe followed them. Whatever 
came out, the four were determined to 
stand by Jinny. 

“Just looking for the pearls, Jinny,” said 
Lissy, quite unconscious of any unusual dis¬ 
turbance. In fact those who had come up 
behind the Rosemary Twins did not know 
that Jinny had come up ahead of them. 

302 






A RED PIGTAIL 

“Let’s look under all these balsam pillows 
again,” she went on, briskly. “And, 
Roddy, spread down a newspaper and let’s 
go through everything in the wastebasket 
again.” 

As she spoke, Lissy caught up Jinny’s pil¬ 
low and gave it an energetic little shake. 

“You didn’t sew it very well, Jinny,” she 
said. “See, it’s all ripped on one side.” 

“I don’t care if ’tis,” cried Jinny. 
“Whose pillow is it, Lissy Penny?” 

“I’ll help you fix it,” went on Lissy. 
“Here’s the workbasket. Look through 
the workbasket, Mart. The pearls might 
have got in it, some way. Here’s my thim¬ 
ble—and a needle’s threaded. It won’t 
take a jiffy—it’s just the outside cover that’s 
ripped. Why what’s the matter, Jinny? 
Don’t you want me to fix it?” 

For Jinny had dashed across to the table 
303 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


and snatched the pillow from under Lissy’s 
arm. 

Every one’s eyes were on Jinny, now, 
where she stood defiantly hugging the 
queer, little green and yellow pillow to her. 

Some one reached for it, laughing, and 
tossed it back to Lissy who was waiting to 
sew the end. Lissy caught it, Jinny sprang 
for it, caught at it, dropped it, and Susy 
picked it up. 

“Why there’s something in it,” she cried. 
“Feel—there’s a little bunch here.” 

“What’s in your pillow, Jinny?” Joe 
said, quietly. He was sorry for Jinny’s 
distressed little face under the funny wig. 
“Take it out and show it to us. Let Jinny 
take her pillow, Sue.” 

Susy handed the pillow to Jinny. 

“I—can’t,” said Jinny. 

“Why can’t you?” said several voices. 

304 





A RED PIGTAIL 

“I can’t,” said Jinny again. Her voice 
was muffled in the pillow which half-hid 
her face. 

“What is the matter now, children?” 
said Aunt Rose’s voice from the open door. 
“Why aren’t you in bed?” 

“Jinny has something hidden in her pil¬ 
low, Aunt Rose,” explained Marjory, 
breathlessly. “And she won’t show us 
what it is.” 

“You—show ’em,” cried Jinny. Quite 
suddenly, she flung the green and yellow 
pillow at Aunt Rose. “I don’t care if I 
did,” she cried, dashing back her tears and 
tossing her head. 

Two things happened at once. Jinny’s 
defiant toss was too much for the Topsy 
wig. It lurched crazily, hung for a brief 
instant, and then fell off. At the very same 
minute, Aunt Rose’s groping hand came 
305 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


out from the balsam pillow. In it was a 
long straggly braid of hair. The last time 
the Bungayloafers had seen that red braid 
it had adorned Jinny’s head. They turned 
from it to gaze fascinated at that same head. 
Deserted by the Topsy wig, it was still red 
—redder than ever it had seemed. But it 
had been closely cropped. One lock, 
longer than the others, hung down behind. 
Evidently Jinny’s reaching scissors had not 
found that one. Another stood up some¬ 
thing like a red question mark on top of her 
head. 

“I don’t care if I did,” said Jinny, in 
answer to the faces. “It’s my own hair, 
ain’t it? And if I wanted it bobbed like 
Martie’s, ain’t I got a right to do it? It’s 
my own hair, I tell you.” 

“But why did you hide the braid in the 
pillow, dear?” said Aunt Rose, after the 
306 





A RED PIGTAIL 

shout of laughter had died down a little, 
leaving faint giggles and chuckles behind 
it. 

“There wasn’t no other place,” said 
Jinny. Excitement, suspense, and sorrow 
had quite upset her English. She gazed 
angrily at the red pigtail still in Aunt 
Rose’s hand. “I had to put it somewhere, 
didn’t I? And then I had to get it out 
again, didn’t I?” Quite suddenly all the 
wind went out of Jinny’s high flying sails. 
“It’s been a dreadful day,” she wailed. 
“And my hair’s worse than ever. I wisht 
—I wisht I could wear Topsy’s wig, for¬ 
ever ’n’ ever.” 

The little nurse reached out a pretty, 
white hand and smoothed down the lock 
that stood up so defiantly on top of Jinny’s 
head. “Never mind, dear,” she said. “I 
can fix it, beautifully. Really I think it’s 
307 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


going to be pretty, bobbed like Martha’s. 
Come downstairs and I’ll even it off for 
you.” 

Jinny went away with Miss Russell, the 
red pigtail dangling from one hand, the 
other held fast in Miss Russell’s. The 
Bungayloafers gazed at each other. 

“She didn’t even once think that we 
might—” began Marjory. 

“Of course not,” said Lissy. 

“But she didn’t even once think that any 
one might think—” said Marjory again. 

“I’m glad she didn’t,” said Joe. 

“Oh, so am I,” said Betty. “Isn’t she 
dear—and isn’t she funny?” 

Marjory laughed softly. 

“I’ll never forget that red pigtail and 
that funny cropped head,” she said. 

“But where are those pearls?” said 
Nancy. 


308 





CHAPTER XIX 


A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 
NDER Miss Russell’s skillful 



hands, Jinny’s shorn head 
bloomed out, triumphantly. A 


last look into her morning-glory wreathed 
mirror, next morning, did much to help 
her bear the jokes slung at her, from all 
sides, as she took her place between John 
and Barbie at the breakfast table. 

“I don’t care,” she began, her pretty 
bobbed head held proudly. Then she 
stopped short. “Miss Russell says it’ll be 
darker when it grows out,” she said. “And 
that I’ve got to keep my temper down to 
match it. So I’m not going to get mad, 
no matter what you say.” 


309 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Good for you, Jinny,” said Joe. 

“And now I’m going to help find those 
pearls,” went on Jinny. “I couldn’t give 
my mind to it before. I was thinking so 
much about my hair, getting it bobbed, and 
then wondering what to do with that old 
pigtail.” 

“Every single g in its place,” said Joe. 
“A bobbed head agrees with you, Miss 
Mason.” 

“Now that I’ve got a decent-looking head 
like the rest of you,” said Jinny, “won’t you 
please call me Virginia?” 

“We call you Jinny because we like you,” 
said Betty. “Just as we call Marjory, 
Margie.” 

“I’d never thought of that,” said Jinny. 
“Jinny for me, then,” she added. 

But even with Jinny’s help, and the help 
of the town members of the M. S., who 
310 





A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

came that afternoon and joined in the 
search, no pearls could be found. Thurs¬ 
day went by. Friday came and brought 
the little Pennies, but no pearls, and no 
clue of their whereabouts. 

Saturday, the day of the pageant, dawned 
fair and golden. Rosemary Bungalow 
looked its best. The grass was freshly cut. 
Sweet peas swung from their trellises, fill¬ 
ing the air with their delicate perfume. 

All the seats on the porch were taken. 
Not only was most of Sugar River there, 
but friends of Aunt Rose had motored out 
from the city. Friends of Betty’s mother 
and Aunt Mary Craig, who were in town 
establishing a Red Cross Chapter, heard 
about the pageant and came to see it. 

With its setting of woods, flower-filled 
gardens, sunlit lawn, and sparkling foun¬ 
tain, the pageant was a great success. It 
311 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


was led by Roger as a Boy Scout and Polly, 
trying to live up to her Pocahontas cos¬ 
tume. Next came Billy, so wild and west¬ 
ern a cowboy, he might have just stepped 
down from a “movie” screen. Harry, who 
was “Tom Sawyer,” tried to keep up with 
“Topsy,” who capered gayly about, her 
funny, kinky wool adorned with bits of col¬ 
ored ribbons. Lissy was “Orphant Annie” 
and Paul was “Oliver Twist.” Then in a 
group, their skirts billowing about them, 
came the four “Little Women.” Back of 
them was Tom as “Simple Simon.” 
“Alice” was adorable in her short-waisted 
blue gown. Barby, as the “White Rabbit” 
and John as the “Mad Hatter,” delighted 
every one, themselves included. “Haven’t 
I got dandy ears?” Barby asked the audi¬ 
ence, waving them up and down in the most 
rabbit-like fashion. 


312 







A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

Cinderella’s coach was drawn by rats 
with long whiskers. They were so life¬ 
like they made Nancy shiver. But they 
were really Trixy and Pet. Susy was a 
charming “Little French Cousin.” Back 
of her came Martin and Martha as “Jack 
Spratt” and his wife. “Reddy Fox” and 
“Johnny Chuck” were next in line. No 
one would have dreamed their real names 
were Bob and Bert Penny. Last of all, 
came the “Princess” and “Prince Charm¬ 
ing,” looking exactly as all princes and 
princesses should look, although Betty had 
flatly refused to wear the remaining string 
of pearls. 

Out of the distant grove, across the 
bridge, dipping into the garden, up the 
steps and across the lawn, to their places 
surrounding the fountain, they came, sing¬ 
ing some verses about “Our Friends from 
313 







MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


Story Book Land.” Then the Boy Scout 
introduced the characters. It was a hard 
ordeal for bashful Roger, but he went 
through it without flinching and received 
much applause for his soldierly bearing. 

Meg, Joe, Beth, and Amy gave a little 
scene from “Little Women.” The Cow¬ 
boy and Pocahontas gave a wild dance 
punctuated by wilder whoops. Alice and 
the Mad Hatter had intended to have a dia¬ 
logue, but the Mad Hatter forgot his lines. 
Alice saved the day by reciting part of 
“The Jabberwocky.” Simple Simon and 
the White Rabbit gave a dance. Little 
Orphant Annie gave her well-known reci¬ 
tation. Oliver Twist took part of her sup¬ 
per and begged for more. Tom Sawyer 
passed his whitewash pail and brush up 
and down among the crowd. Jack Spratt 
and his wife showed an empty platter. 

314 






A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

Marjory descended from her pumpkin 
chariot, danced with the Prince, ran away, 
and lost her slipper. Joe, charming as his 
name, found it and fitted it to her small 
foot. Meanwhile, Betty had fallen asleep. 
Joe, still charming, knelt to waken her. 
He kissed her with so resounding a smack 
that the audience laughed and declared it 
was no wonder the Princess awoke. 

The Boy Scout and the Little French 
Cousin had some tableaux in which the 
Flags of France and the U. S. A. took ac¬ 
tive part. These quite brought down the 
house. 

As a grand finale, Marjory turned her¬ 
self into a rose and danced in and out of 
the mist of the fountain. Then she and 
Joe led in a pretty dance in which all of 
the actors and most of the little guests took 
part. 


315 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


The out-of-town guests had applauded 
enthusiastically throughout. During re¬ 
freshments, they consulted together and 
with Aunt Rose. Aunt Rose called Betty. 
When she came back to the other actors, 
she was flushed and bright-eyed. 

“They want us to repeat it after dinner 
for the benefit of the new Red Cross Chap¬ 
ter,” she cried. “Aunt Rose says we can. 
Isn’t that splendid?” 

The rest of that day and evening were so 
full that no one except Lissy, Marjory, and 
Joe, who never quite forgot them, gave a 
thought to the missing pearls. The porch 
was packed, and there were rows of chairs 
on the lawn. The proceeds made a neat, 
little sum for the struggling new chapter. 
And no one was happier over it all than 
the Bungayloafers, themselves. 

Sunday was given up to taking the little 
316 





A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

Pennies and the little Masons to their 
homes. 

Monday morning, at breakfast, every one 
was a little quiet. For one thing, the pearls 
were still missing. Then, too, the wonder¬ 
ful bungalow party was almost over. 
Wednesday morning, Joe, Betty, the Mar¬ 
ties, and Nancy were to leave. Joe, Betty, 
and the Marties were going to the Bernard 
Camp in the Adirondacks. Nancy was to 
enter a hospital and begin training for the 
nurse she had always said she wanted to 
be. 

In a few days, too, Marjory’s father was 
coming to take her and Roger and Lissv 
to The Willows. Susy would go to her 
own home. The Rosemary Twins and 
Jinny would divide their time between 
Rosemary Bungalow and the farm. 

After the work was done, that morning, 
317 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


every one went out-of-doors. Nancy and 
Miss Russell were talking excitedly about 
Nancy’s new work. Aunt Rose was writ¬ 
ing letters. Mary was knitting. The blue 
ball bounced about in her lap, getting 
smaller and smaller. Mary wondered if 
there were going to be enough wool. 
Betty played the victrola and Marjory tried 
a new dance that she had thought out that 
morning. Roger and Martin were in the 
garden. Martha, of course, was with them. 

Joe was thinking about the lost pearls. 
How could the Bungayloafers go away 
from Rosemary Bungalow and leave that 
mystery unsolved? 

“I say, Mary,” he said to the pink Rose¬ 
mary Twin near him, “let’s go up in the 
secret room and have another try at those 
pearls.” 

“I’m Rose,” dimpled the Rosemary 

318 





A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

Twin, “but I’ll go with you, Joe. Mary 
wants to knit.” 

Up in the secret room, they looked the 
table over—searching its drawer and its 
shelf just as they had done many times be¬ 
fore. They even looked in the books. For 
the fourth time, they emptied the waste¬ 
basket. They got down and searched again 
under the seats and behind the ferns. Rose 
even poked at the earth in the jars. 

“It’s no use,” she said, at last. 

“They must have been swept up and 
burned up,” said Joe. “I can’t think of 
anything else.” 

They went slowly back to the porch. 
Martha, Martin, and Roger had come in 
from the garden. It was very sultry and 
they were all glad to drop down anywhere. 

It was just at this time that Mary gave 
a sudden exclamation. Aunt Rose stopped 
319 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


writing. Nancy and Miss Russell stopped 
talking. Every one gazed at Mary. She 
sat there, one hand firmly grasping Jinny’s 
half-finished sweater, the other holding out 
a small wad of paper. 

“Lissy—oh, Lissy Penny,” she gasped, 
“are—these—your—pearls ?” 

“Don’t touch it—any one but Lissy,” she 
went on, as eager hands on all sides reached 
out for the little wad of paper. “Oh, Lissy, 
do look quick.” 

Lissy took the paper. Her face was as 
white as her dress as she opened it. 

There, shining against their dingy cover¬ 
ing, was a string of pearls. Those near 
enough could see the gold-brown stone in 
its clasp. 

“Where on earth did they come from, 
Mary?” cried Joe. 

Mary was white with anxiety. 

320 




A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

“I had them all the time,” she said. 
“They were inside my ball of blue wool.” 

“But how on earth did they get there, 
Mary?” cried her Twin. 

“I’m—trying—to think,” said Mary. 
“It was that awful morning I tried to be 
you, too, Rose. I was ’most everywhere. 
Where did I wind this ball?” 

“The wool was still in the skeins when 
you showed it to me, dear,” said Aunt 
Rose. 

“I can’t remember,” said poor Mary, 
looking from one to another of the Bungay- 
loafers. “I never wind balls around any¬ 
thing, anyway. Some one must have wound 
it for me—who did?” 

“I did,” said Joe. 

He left his chair and came to stand back 
of Mary. 

“Don’t you remember, Mary,” he said, 
321 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“while some of the others went down to 
hunt for Rose, I stayed in the secret room 
with you just to tease you? I knew they 
couldn’t find her. I was just about sure 
you were trying to be both of you. You’d 
just begun to wind a skein of wool and I 
said I’d wind it. I started in and I didn’t 
do it well, and you said some people used 
something to wind it on. I just reached 
over on the table and took up a little wad 
of paper that lay there.” 

Joe was so shamefaced and solemn that 
every one had to laugh. Mary drew a long 
breath of relief. 

“I’m so glad it was you, Joey,” she said. 
“I was so afraid you’d find out that I did 
it—or something. I remember about it all 
now—only I was thinking so hard that 
morning about how to keep you all from 
finding out that Rose had gone, I didn’t 
322 




A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

notice what you said, or what you wound 
the ball on or anything.” 

“Well for a rising young detective-law¬ 
yer, or whatever it is you are, or are going 
to be,” chuckled Lissy, “I don’t think much 
of your part in ‘The Great Pearl Mys¬ 
tery.’ ” 

“I’m glad you did it, Joe, if any one had 
to,” said Marjory, out of the laugh that 
went up at Joe’s expense. 

“I can stand it as well as any one,” said 
Joe good-naturedly. “Gee, Mar, but I’m 
glad they’re found, even if I did take 
them.” 

“From now on,” said Marjory, solemnly, 
“we’ll keep our pearls in Daddy’s safe, 
Lissy.” 

“ ’Deed we will,” said Lissy. “It’s an 
awful responsibility owning pearls,” she 
added. 


323 






MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


During luncheon, the pearls were handed 
around the table for every one to gaze at. 
Then they were given to Aunt Rose to put 
away with the other string. And while 
they were still talking about them, the 
telephone rang. 

After Aunt Rose had talked for a few 
minutes, she called Marjory. 

“It’s your Daddy, dear,” she said. “I 
didn’t say a word about the pearls—you 
tell him.” 

Marjory took the receiver. If Aunt 
Rose had not been talking about the pearls, 
what had made her eyes so blue and her 
whole face so radiant? 

When Marjory came back to the table, a 
few minutes later, her own face was beam¬ 
ing and she fairly bubbled over with some¬ 
thing. 

“Wasn’t he glad, Mar?” cried Lissy. 

324 






A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

“About the pearls?” asked Marjory. 
“Oh yes, I suppose so. He didn’t say 
much about them.” 

“What is the excitement, then?” asked 
Joe. 

“I can’t tell any one,” said Marjory, “un¬ 
less it’s Aunt Rose. I suppose she knows 
it. Why, of course you do, Aunt Rose. 
Isn’t it splendid?” 

“I’m so glad you think so, dear,” said 
Aunt Rose. “I think it’s rather splendid, 
myself.” 

Just here, there came a great honking and 
shouting at the side door. And there were 
three cars from Sugar River which had 
come to take the Bungayloafers for sort of 
a farewell picnic to Sugar River Falls. 

In them were Polly and her mother, 
Laura and Emily, Billy and his grand¬ 
father and grandmother, Tom, Paul, 
325 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Harry, and Norah. Larry came up from 
the garage with Aunt Rose’s car, and Joe 
ran to get his. 

It was a wonderful picnic in the grove 
and gully near a pretty, slender line of fall¬ 
ing water called Sugar River Falls. There 
was a wonderful supper at the foot of the 
falls. Best of all, almost, was the long ride 
home by roundabout country roads. One 
of these roads wound through a bit of a 
village called Locust Grove. Here, Joe 
said, he had found Betty when she was a 
little girl. They stopped to look at an old 
farmhouse where Joe had lived for a while. 
Then they stopped to look at the old Blake 
house where Betty had stayed a while with 
her Aunt Priscilla and Aunt Prudence. 
It was closed now. Aunt Priscilla was 
dead, and Aunt Prudence lived with Betty’s 
father and mother in the city. The Mar- 
326 







u 


SHE SAT DOWN ON ONE OF THE TWIN BEDS AND PUT AN 
ARM AROUND ROSE AND AN ARM AROUND MARY.” 





































A BALL OF BLUE WOOL 

ties, greatly excited and half homesick for 
just a minute, pointed out a road which led 
away from Locust Grove to their home, 
The Wren’s Nest. 

The Rosemary Twins were going to bed 
that night, when Aunt Rose knocked and 
came in, trailing silken blue draperies after 
her. 

“Do you know what Marjory’s secret is, 
Twinnies?” she said. She sat down on one 
of the twin beds and put an arm around 
Rose and an arm around Mary. 

The Twins shook their heads. Aunt 
Rose’s blue eyes had never been so blue. 
Her happy voice had never been so 
happy. 

“What is it?” cried Rose. 

“Is it that which makes you shine so, 
Aunt Rose?” said Mary. 

“I’m so happy,” said Aunt Rose’s happy 

327 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


voice. “I’m going to be married, Twin- 
nies.” 

“Married?” 

The word came from both Twins at 
once. They stared at Aunt Rose. Then 
they stared at each other. 

“To—Marjory’s—father?” said Mary. 

Aunt Rose nodded. “Isn’t it lovely?” 
she cried. “Aren’t you glad?” 

“We’re — glad — you’re — happy,” said 
Mary, slowly. 

They both hugged Aunt Rose and kissed 
her, and Aunt Rose hugged them and 
kissed them. 

“Marjory wants to announce it to-mor¬ 
row,” she said. “So don’t tell any of the 
Bungayloafers.” 


328 






CHAPTER XX 


HAPPY ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS 


44 TT OE,” said Marjory, after breakfast 
I the next morning, “will you please 
take some of us to the woods this 
morning?” 

“Sorry, Miss Brook,” said Joe, with much 
formality, “but I have a previous engage¬ 
ment.” 

“For what, Joe?” 

“To convey the Misses Dawson to their 
home to confer with their parent,” said Joe. 

“How silly you are, Joey,” laughed Mar¬ 
jory. “Never mind—I just wanted to find 
some ferns.” 

“Larry can take you, Margie,” said Aunt 
329 


MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Rose. Aunt Rose was all smiles this morn¬ 
ing. “Going alone, Rosemary Dawson ?” 

The Rosemary Twins nodded. 

It was another lovely morning—the kind, 
August knows so well how to make when 
she is in the right mood. Soft warm mists 
rose, silver-gray, and lost themselves in sun¬ 
shine that was not yet too warm. But the 
Rosemary Twins, both in the front seat of 
the car with Joe, were unusually silent. 

“Why so still, fair Rosemary?” ques¬ 
tioned Joe, making the car spin merrily 
along. 

“We feel—still,” said Rose. 

“Something dreadful happened?” asked 
Joe. “Lost anything? If so, search my 
pockets—it’s probably there.” 

“Something’s going to—happen,” said 
Rose. 

“Can’t it be helped?” 

330 






HAPPY ENDINGS 


Two blonde heads shook emphatically. 

“Well,” said Joe, deftly turning a corner, 
and beginning to climb the long hill, “I’ll 
tell you something good for little girls to 
know. Dreadful things that are going to 
happen often aren’t dreadful at all when 
they do happen.” 

“This one can’t help being,” said Rose, 
dolefully. 

While the Rosemary Twins went to find 
father, Joe rode on up the hills to turn 
around. 

Father was on the porch reading his 
paper. 

“Well, Twinnies,” he cried, as they ran 
up the walk between the pansy beds, “but 
what is the matter?” he added, at sight of 
their sober faces. 

The Twins sat down, one on each side 
of him. 


331 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


“Some one’s going to be married,” Mary 
said, slowly and solemnly. 

Never had Father looked younger or 
handsomer than he did this morning. He 
showed no surprise at Mary’s state¬ 
ment. 

“How did you find out?” he asked. 

“Aunt Rose told us,” said Rose. 

“Rose?” cried Father, surprised now. 
“How could she?” 

“She’s going to tell every one this noon,” 
said Mary, “or Margie is.” 

“Going to tell every one?” Father stared 
at his Twins, his eyes as wide and blue as 
theirs. 

“An—announcement, Margie calls it,” 
explained Rose. “Margie knows, of 
course,” she added. 

“Margie?” Father looked still more puz¬ 
zled. 







HAPPY ENDINGS 


“Why it’s her father’s going to marry 
her,” said Rose, with no regard whatever 
for English as it should be spoken. 

“Let’s begin over,” said Father, “till I 
get this thing straight. Just who is it that's 
going to be married?” 

“Aunt Rose,” said Mary. 

“Margie’s father,” said Rose. 

“Rose and Dave Brook?” cried Father. 
“Well, that’s almost the best thihg I’ve 
heard of in some time.” 

Rose looked at Mary. Mary looked at 
Rose. 

“Of course, we want Aunt Rose to be 
happy,” said Mary. 

“Aunt Rose is happy enough now,” said 
Rose. 

“Now see here,” said Father. He put an 
arm around each of his small, sober daugh¬ 
ters. “You want Aunt Rose to be happy? 

333 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


But you don’t want—just what is it you 
don’t want, Twinnies?” 

“She’ll belong to Margie more than 
to us,” said a small, half-ashamed voice. 
It might have belonged to either 
Twin. 

“Aunt Rose has a heart like her bun¬ 
galow,” said Father, quietly. “Beautiful 
sunny rooms upstairs and downstairs. And 
even as it has been there, while Marjory 
had a room on one side of her own special 
self, you’ll always have the other.” 

Rose looked at Mary. Mary looked at 
Rose. 

“Did you know, Father, that we didn’t 
want Margie to come—just at first?” said 
Mary, in a very low voice. 

Father nodded. “But you grew to love 
her at once, didn’t you?” he asked. 

“Oh yes, Father,” cried Rosemary Daw- 
334 






HAPPY ENDINGS 


son. “We —we just thought we weren’t 
going to like her,” added Rose. 

Rose looked at Mary. Mary looked at 
Rose. Father said nothing. 

“And you think, Father, maybe, we’ll 
really like—this?” asked Mary. 

Father nodded. “You’ll be so glad to 
see Aunt Rose so happy, you’ll be happier 
than ever yourselves,” he said. 

Mary looked at Rose. Rose looked at 
Mary. 

“Maybe—we—will,” said a voice, that 
might have belonged to either. 

“It’s the best thing that could happen to 
Rose,” Father went on talking to them quite 
as if they were grown-ups. “Rose hasn't 
always been happy. Now’s the time you 
must think more about Aunt Rose and her 
happiness than you do about Rosemary 
Dawson and hers.” 


335 




MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“Margie’s father is awfully nice ” said 
Mary, slowly, “for a man, that is.” 

“Yes,” said Father. He seemed to be 
thinking about something besides Mar¬ 
jory’s father. “I believe I’ll tell you some¬ 
thing,” he said. “It’s a great secret, too. 
No one knows it yet—except myself and 
one other person.” 

“What is it?” cried Rosemary Dawson. 

“Whose ear first?” said Father. 

“Both, please, Father. Please tell Rose¬ 
mary Dawson.” 

Father drew them so close together that 
Mary’s blonde hair mingled with Rose’s 
blonde hair. And Mary’s eyes, big and 
blue, gazed straight in Rose’s, big and blue, 
too. Then he said something very low— 
just a few words. 

“Father John Dawson!” cried Mary. 

“Honest and true?” cried Rose. 

336 







HAPPY ENDINGS 


“Honest and true,” said Father. “How 
do you like it?” 

Mary stared at Rose. Rose stared 
at Mary. The blue question marks 
turned suddenly into glad exclamation 
points. 

“We just love it,” cried Rosemary Daw¬ 
son. 

Joe’s loud honking down in the road was 
at last noticed even by the three on the 
porch. 

“Oh, Father,” cried Rose. “Please can’t 
we announce this, too?” 

“Please, Father,” begged Mary. 

Father thought a minute. “Ask her ” he 
said. 

Neither Twin would sit with Joe on the 
way home. And there was so much whis¬ 
pering, which broke out into so many de¬ 
lightful giggles, that Joe, at last, stopped 
337 






MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


the car just above the village, to ask what 
was the matter. 

“You’ll know by and by,” said Rose. 

“I would suggest,” said Joe, “that we re¬ 
christen Rosemary Bungalow. It should 
be named ‘The House of Many Secrets.’ ” 

“But there won’t be any left after lunch,” 
laughed Mary. 

The luncheon table was beautifully 
trimmed with maiden-hair ferns and late 
pink roses. Aunt Rose was radiant. She 
was so excited that she sugared Lissy’s 
cocoa twice and even put a generous spoon¬ 
ful of sugar into Roger’s glass of milk. 
Marjory ate little and the Rosemary Twins 
almost nothing. Indeed so much excite¬ 
ment filled the air, that even Martha re¬ 
fused her third ear of green corn. 

“Aunt Rose, please may I tell them be¬ 
fore the dessert?” begged Marjory. 

338 






HAPPY ENDINGS 


“We’ll all eat twice as much afterward— 
and it’s that delicious frozen pud¬ 
ding.” 

“Marjory has something to tell you,” 
said Aunt Rose. She reached under the 
edge of the table, found Mary’s hand and 
squeezed it. Then she reached under the 
edge of the table on the other side, found 
Rose’s hand, and squeezed it. 

Marjory stood up in her place. Every 
one looked at her. Her soft curls fluffed 
around her pretty neck, her dark eyes 
danced with delight. 

“Rosemary Dawson and Miss Russell 
know,” she said, her cheeks growing pink 
with excitement. Then, in her most im¬ 
portant manner, she added, “It gives me 
great pleasure to announce that on the first 
of October, my Aunt Rose is going to marry 
my Daddy!” Then she sat down. 

339 




MARJORY'S DISCOVERY 


Every one looked at Aunt Rose—sweeter 
than any rose on the table. 

Joe sprang to his feet. 

“Love and best wishes from your Bun- 
gayloafers,” he cried, tossing her the rose 
that had been at his plate. Then every one 
threw her a rose. They forgot all about 
the dessert and left their places to cluster 
about her and hug and kiss her. Marjory 
slipped an arm around each Rosemary 
Twin and whispered, “Isn’t it going to be 
wonderful for us?” Rose looked at Mary. 
Mary looked at Rose. And all at once they 
knew it was going to be wonderful and they 
hugged Marjory and told her so. 

It was some time before every one was 
back in his place at the table. Then, just 
as Aunt Rose was going to ring for the 
dessert, Rose telegraphed Mary across the 
table, “Ready?” and Mary telegraphed 
340 






HAPPY ENDINGS 


back “Ready!” And they both stood 
up. 

“We’ve something to tell, too,” said Rose. 

“Some one else is going to be married,” 
said Mary. 

“Guess?” said Rosemary Dawson. 

“Not Nancy?” cried the irrepressible 
Joe. 

“You’re the only marriageable young 
man I know, Joe,” laughed Nancy. 

“Not Betty?” cried Joe. For Betty at 
seventeen had plenty of admirers. 

Two blonde heads shook violently. 

“She’s here at this table, though,” said 
Rose. 

“Janet Russell,” cried Aunt Rose, look¬ 
ing at Miss Russell’s red cheeks, “why 
didn’t you tell me?” 

“I haven’t known it myself—long,” said 
Miss Russell. 


341 




MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 


“But who is it?” cried Aunt Rose. “Do 
I know him?” 

“We’re trying to tell you,” said Mary, 
patiently. 

“Miss Janet Russell,” announced Rose¬ 
mary Dawson, “is going to marry Mr. 
John Dawson.” 

“John?” cried Aunt Rose, staring at 
Miss Russell. “My brother John? 
Well, if that isn’t quite too good to be 
true.” 

The pudding was quite forgotten till 
Mrs. Wright’s anxious voice from the door 
was heard above the clamor. 

“The puddin’s about meltin’, Miss Nor¬ 
ris,” she said. 

The pudding was served, and while it 
was being eaten, the chatter and laughter 
went on. 

“You certainly have luck discovering 
342 






HAPPY ENDINGS 


relatives, Mar,” cried Joe. “Not contented 
with sister, brothers, grandmothers, great- 
aunts, uncles, aunts, and cousins, you now 
add a mother to your collection.” 

“That certainly was a fortunate wreck 
for Rosemary Dawson,” said Nancy. 

The Rosemary Twins, now one on each 
side of Miss Russell, looked at each other 
and nodded their heads emphatically. 

“Didn’t I say this should be called ‘Once 
Upon a Time Bungalow’?” said Betty. 
“Isn’t it all just like a fairy story?” 

“This surely is a happy ending,” said 
Lissy. 

“I’d call it a happy beginning,” said 
Marjory. 


THE END 


343 






























• • 











Selections from 
The Page Company’s 
Books for Young People 

THE BLUE BONNET SERIES 

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume . . . . . . . $1.75 

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Caroline E. Jacobs. 

“ The book’s heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest 
kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness.” — Chicago 
Inter-Ocean. 

BLUE BONNET'S RANCH PARTY 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read. 
“A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter.” — Boston Transcript. 

BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“It is bound to become popular because of its whole¬ 
someness and its many human touches.” — Boston Globe. 

BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“ It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their 
teens.” — New York Sun. 

BLUE BONNET —DEBUTANTE 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for 
Blue Bonnet. 

BLUE BONNET OF THE SEVEN STARS 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

“The author’s intimate detail and charm of narration 
gives the reader an interesting story of the heroine’s war 
activities.” — Pittsburgh Leader . 

A —1 




THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


ONLY HENRIETTA 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.90 

“ It is an inspiring story of the unfolding of life for a 
young girl—a story in which there is plenty of action 
to hold interest and wealth of delicate sympathy and 
understanding that appeals to the hearts of young and 
old.”— Pittsburgh Leader . 

HENRIETTA’S INHERITANCE: A Sequel to 
“Only Henrietta” 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.90 

“ One of the most noteworthy stories for girls issued 
this season. The life of Henrietta is made very real, 
and there is enough incident in the narrative to balance 
the delightful characterization.”— Providence Journal. 

“The heroine deserves to have this story develop into 
a series of books; a wholesome, sparkling, satisfying 
story of American girlhood.”— New Era Magazine. 

THE YOUNG KNIGHT 

By I. M. B. of K. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.65 

The clash of broad-sword on buckler, the twanging 
of bow-strings and the cracking of spears splintered by 
whirling maces resound through this stirring tale of 
knightly daring-do. 

Michael Faversham, orphaned nephew of Sir Gilbert 
Faversham, is a wholesomely mischievous lad who 
nevertheless has the beautiful faith and love for the 
Saviour so characteristic of the early sixteenth century 
Christians. How he saves the fortress of Rhodes from 
the besieging Turks, is later betrayed, captured and 
tortured by them in the hope that he may be made t© 
turn traitor and apostate, and his triumphant escape 
from the hands of the Infidels—all these will delight 
the sturdy hearts of the present-day American boy. 

A— 2 




BOOKS FOR YOU KG PEOPLE 


THE MARJORY-JOE SERIES 

By Alice E. Allex 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illus¬ 
trated, per volume .$1.50 

JOE, THE CIRCUS BOY AND ROSEMARY 

These are two of Miss Allen’s earliest and most suc¬ 
cessful stories, combined in a single volume to meet the 
insistent demands from young people for these two 
particular tales. 

THE MARTIE TWINS: Continuing the Ad¬ 
ventures of Joe, the Circus Boy 

“ The chief charm of the story is that it contains so 
much of human nature. It is so real that it touches 
the heart strings .”—New York Standard. 

MARJORY, THE CIRCUS GIRL 

A sequel to “Joe, the Circus Boy,” and “The Martie 
Twins.” 

MARJORY AT THE WILLOWS 

Continuing the story of Marjory, the Circus Girl. 

“ Miss Allen does not write impossible stories, hut 
delightfully pins her little folk right down to this life 
of ours, in which she ranges vigorously and delight¬ 
fully .”—Boston Ideas. 

MARJORY’S HOUSE PARTY: Or, What Hap¬ 
pened at Clover Patch 

“ Miss Allen certainly knows how to please the chil¬ 
dren and tells them stories that never fail to charm.” 
—Madison Courier. 

MARJORY’S DISCOVERY 

This new addition to the popular MARJORY-JOE 
SERIES is as lovable and original as any of the other 
creations of this writer of charming stories. We get 
little peeps at the precious twins, at the healthy minded 
Joe and sweet Marjory. There is a bungalow party, 
which lasts the entire summer, in which all of the 
characters of the previous MARJORY-JOE stories 
participate, and their happy times are delightfully de¬ 
picted. 

A—3 




THE PAGE COMPANY'S 


THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By Harrison Adams 

Each ISmo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per 
volume .$1.65 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Ob, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

“ Such books as this are an admirable means of stimu¬ 
lating among the young Americans of to-day interest in 
the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of 
the Republic.” — Boston Globe. 

THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES; 

Or, On the Trail of the Iroquois. 

“ The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not 
only interesting but instructive as well and shows ihe 
sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance 
and trial produced.” — American Tourist, Chicago . 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI,' 

Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness. 

“The story is told with spirit, and is full of adven¬ 
ture.” —New York Sun. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI; 

Or, In tee Country of the Sioux. 

“ Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic 
situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a 
capital one for boys.”— Watchman Examiner, New York 
City. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOW¬ 
STONE; Or, Lost in the Land of Wonders. 

“ There is plenty of lively adventure and action and 
the story is well told.”— Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; 

Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest. 

“ The story is full of spirited action and contains mucfe 
valuable historical information.”— Boston Herald . 

A—4 





BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES 

By Harriet Lummis Smith 
Each one volume, cloth, decorative, 12mo, illus¬ 
trated, per volume (except as otherwise noted) $1.65 

THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE 

“It is a book that cheers, that inspires to higher 
thinking; it knits hearts; it unfolds neighborhood plans 
in a way that makes one tingle to try carrying them 
out, and most of all it proves that in daily life, threads 
of wonderful issues are being woven in with what 
appears the most ordinary of material, but which in 
the end brings results stranger than the most thrilling 
fiction.”— Belle Kellogg Towne in The Young People’s 
Weekly, Chicago. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S VACATION 

“It is a clean, wholesome, hearty story, well told 
and full of incident. It carries one through experiences 
that hearten and brighten the day.”— Utica, N. Y., 
Observer. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S SCHOOL DAYS 

“ It is a bright, entertaining story, with happy girls, 
good times, natural development, and a gentle earnest¬ 
ness of general tone.”— The Christian Register, Boston. 

THE FRIENDLY TERRACE QUARTETTE 

“The story is told in easy and entertaining style 
and is a most delightful narrative, especially for young 
people. It will also make the older readers feel younger, 
for while reading it they will surely live again in the 
days of their youth.”— Troy Budget. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S WAY $1.75 

“ The author has again produced a story that is 
replete with' wholesome incidents and makes Peggy 
more lovable than ever as a companion and leader.” 
—World of Books. 

“It possesses a plot of much merit and through its 
324 pages it weaves a tale of love and of adventure 
which ranks it among the best books for girls.”— Cohoes 
American. 

A—5 



THE PAGE COMP ANTS 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

By Charles H. L. Johnston 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume ....... $2.0G 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

“ More of such books should be written, books that 
acquaint young readers with historical personages in a 
pleasant, informal way.” — New York Sun. 

FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 

“Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, 
and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these 
famous Indians with the whites for the possession of 
America is a worthy addition to United States History.” 
— New York Marine Journal. 

FAMOUS SCOUTS 

“ It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascina¬ 
tion for boys and young men.” — New London Day. 

FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVEN¬ 
TURERS OF THE SEA 

“The tales are more than merely interesting; they are 
entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force.” — 
Pittsburgh Post. 

FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES OF 
THE BORDER 

“ The accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly 
readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love 
the history of actual adventure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

FAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 
OF AMERICA 

“ The book is an epitome of some of the wildest and 
bravest adventures of which the world has known.” — 
Brooklyn Daily Eagle. 

FAMOUS GENERALS OF THE GREAT WAR 

Who Led the United States and Her Allies to a Glo¬ 
rious Victory. 

“ The pages of this book have the charm of romance 
without its unreality. The book illuminates, with life¬ 
like portraits, the history of the World War.” — Roches* 
ter Post Express. 

A—6 




BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES (Con.) 

By Edwix Wildmax 

FAMOUS LEADERS OF INDUSTRY.—First 
Series 

“ Are these stories interesting? Let a boy read them; 
and tell you. He will pick out ‘ the best machine 
gun in the world;’ the man who worked eighteen to 
twenty hours a day; the man who kodaked the earth; 
the inventor who died in debt; the case in which Lincoln 
earned his first fee; the secret of Woolworth’s success 
and the man who says ‘ I can’t be bothered eating.’ ”— 
Boston Transcript. 

FAMOUS LEADERS OF INDUSTRY.—Second 
Series 

“ As fascinating as fiction are these biographies, 
which emphasize their humble beginning and drive 
home the truth that just as every soldier of Napoleon 
carried a marshal’s baton in his knapsack, so every 
American youngster carries potential success under his 
hat.”— New York World. 

FAMOUS LEADERS OF CHARACTER: In 
America from the Latter Half of the Nine¬ 
teenth Century 

“ An informing, interesting and inspiring book for 
boys.”— Presbyterian Banner. 

“ ... Is a book that should be read by every boy in 
the whole country. . . . ”— Atlanta Constitution. 

“ Opportunity beckons every boy, and this book may 
suggest the route to be followed. It is well worth 
reading.”— Cortland Standard. 

A—7 



THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


WORKS OF EVALEEN STEIN 

THE CHRISTMAS PORRINGER 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by Adelaide 

Everhart.$1.50 

This story happened many hundreds of years ago in 
the quaint Flemish city of Bruges and concerns a little 
girl named Karen, who worked at lace-making with her 
aged grandmother. 

GABRIEL AND THE HOUR BOOK 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and 
decorated in colors by Adelaide Everhart . . $1.50 

“No works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the 
elements that stir the hearts of children and grown-ups 
as well as do the stories so admirably told by this 
author.”— Louisville Daily Courier. 

A LITTLE SHEPHERD OF PROVENCE 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by Diantha 

H. Marlowe.$1.50 

“The story should be one of the influences in the 
life of every child to whom good stories can be made 
to appeal.”— Public Ledger. 

THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by John Goss $1.50 
“ This touching and pleasing story is told with a 
wealth of interest coupled with enlivening descriptions 
of the country where its scenes are laid and of the 
people thereof.”— Wilmington Every Evening. 

WHEN FAIRIES WERE FRIENDLY 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.65 

“ These stories are written for children in the * believ¬ 
ing years,’ but their literary value is so distinct that 
any book lover is enriched by their possession.”— The 
Herald, Lexington, Ky. 

“ The stories are music in prose—they are like pearls 
on a chain of gold—each word seems exactly the right 
word in the right place; the stories sing themselves 
out, they are so beautifully expressed.”— The Lafayette 
Leader. 

A—8 





BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


MR. DO SOMETHING; Of the Island of Make 
Believe 

By Blanche E. Wade. 

With 8 plates in full color, and many other 
illustrations, cloth decorative, 12mo .... $1.75 
The pervading genius of the story is “ Do Some¬ 
thing,” a roly-poly fairy, who is the embodiment of all 
that is bright and sunshiny. He wears a continuous 
smile and is forever on the move, making up new games 
and stories for boys and girls. No child can fail to 
be entranced by the story; and, once imbued with the 
spirit of “ Do Something,” the tedious hours of inaction, 
caused by lack of pleasing methods of play, will be for¬ 
ever banished. 

DENISE OF THE THREE PINES 

By Edith A. Sawyer. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.65 

Denise is a modern heroine, brave and laughter- 
loving, with all the appeal and charm which go to 
make a fascinating character. 

LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG 

By Carolyn Veriioeff. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.65 

Imagine yourself in this position,—a little girl, mov¬ 
ing with your family to a new community, where the 
boys and girls are strange and unfriendly; then to your 
house come a little orphan and her dog, Billy. This is 
the story of the blossoming of little Constance’s charac¬ 
ter under the loving influence of the little orphan. And 
Billy, the dog, is quite an important character, as you 
will see. 

LITTLE GLAD HEART 

By Linda Stevens Almond. 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated.$1.65 

This story is marked by a timely point of view. The 
story tells of the Warwick family, father, mother, Vir¬ 
ginia and Joan. Mr. Warwick has sent Virginia to 
school at a great sacrifice, and the association with girls 
of wealthy parents has made her dissatisfied with the 
simplicity of her home. In contrast to Virginia’s 
hauteur and selfishness are the kindly deeds of Joan, 
“ Little Glad Heart.” 

A—9 



THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


IDEAL BOOKS FOR GIRLS 

Each, one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, . $1.10 

A LITTLE CANDY BOOK FOR A LITTLE GIRL 

By Amy L. Waterman. 

“ This is a peculiarly interesting little book, written in 
the simple, vivacious style that makes these little manuals 
as delightful to read as they are instructive.” — Nash¬ 
ville Tennessean and American. 

A LITTLE COOK-BOOK FOR A LITTLE GIRL 

By Caroline French Benton. 

This book explains how to cook so simply that no one 
can fail to understand every word, even a complete 
novice. 

A LITTLE HOUSEKEEPING BOOK FOR A 
LITTLE GIRL 

By Caroline French Benton. 

A little girl, home from school on Saturday mornings, 
finds out how to make helpful use of her spare time, and 
also how to take proper pride and pleasure in good 
housework. 

A LITTLE SEWING BOOK FOR A LITTLE 
GIRL 

By Louise Frances Cornell. 

“ It is comprehensive and practical, and yet revealingly 
instructive. It takes a little girl who lives alone with 
her mother, and shows how her mother taught her the 
art of sewing in its various branches. The illustrations 
aid materially.” — Wilmington Every Evening. 

A LITTLE PRESERVING BOOK FOR A 
LITTLE GIRL 

By Amy L. Waterman. 

In simple, clear wording, Mrs. Waterman explains 
every step of the process of preserving or “canning” 
fruits and vegetables. 

A LITTLE GARDENING BOOK FOR A LITTLE 
GIRL 

By Peter Martin. 

This little volume is an excellent guide for the young 
gardener. In addition to truck gardening, the book gives 
valuable information on flowers, the planning of the 
garden, selection of varieties, etc. 

A —10 



BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE HADLEY HALL SERIES 

By Louise M. Breitenbach 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume . . . . . . • $1 C5 

ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

“ The author is to be congratulated on having written 
such an appealing book for girls.” — Detroit Free Press. 

ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 

“ It cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things 
in girls’ books.” — Boston Herald. 

ALMA’S JUNIOR YEAR 

“The diverse characters in the boarding-school are 
strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and the 
action is never dull.” — The Boston Herald. 

ALMA’S SENIOR YEAR 

“ A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter.” — Boston Transcript. 


DOCTOR’S LITTLE GIRL SERIES 

By Marion Ames Taggart 

Each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume , $1.75 

THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE GIRL 

“A charming story of the ups and downs of the life 
of a dear little maid.”— The Churchman. 

SWEET NANCY: The Further Adventures of 
the Doctor’s Little Girl. 

“Just the sort of book to amuse, while its influence 
cannot but be elevating.”— New York Sun. 

NANCY, THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE PARTNER 

“ The story is sweet and fascinating, such as many 
girls of wholesome tastes will enjoy.”— Springfield Union . 

NANCY PORTER’S OPPORTUNITY 

“ Nancy shows throughout that she is a splendid young 
woman, with plenty of pluck.”— Boston Globe. 

NANCY AND THE COGGS TWINS 

“ The story is refreshing.”— New York Sun. 

A—II 







THE PAGE COMPANY'S 


THE BOYS’ STORY OF THE 
RAILROAD SERIES 

By Burton E. Stevenson 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume .$1.75 

THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND; Or, The Ad¬ 
ventures of Allan West. 

“ The whole range of section railroading is covered in 
the story.”— Chicago Post. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER 

“ A vivacious account of the varied and often hazard¬ 
ous nature of railroad life.”— Congregationalist. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER 

“ It is a book that can be unreservedly commended to 
anyone who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing 
yarn.”— Passaic News. 

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; Or, Allan West’s 
Chum. 

“ The story is intensely interesting.”— Baltimore Sun. 

BOY SCOUT STORIES 

By Brewer Corcoran 

Published with the approval of “ The Boy Scouts of 
A merica.” 

Each, one volume, 12mo, cloth decorative, illus¬ 
trated, per volume .$1.75 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF KENDALLVILLE 

The story of a bright young factory worker who can¬ 
not enlist, but his knowledge of woodcraft and wig¬ 
wagging, gained through Scout practice, enables him to 
foil a German plot to blow up the munitions factory. 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE WOLF PATROL 

The boys of Gillfield who were not old enough to go 
to war found just as many thrills at home, chasing a 
German spy. 

THE BOY SCOUTS AT CAMP LOWELL 

“ The best book for boys I have ever read! ” says our 
editor. Mr. Corcoran has again found enough exciting 
material to keep the plot humming from cover to cover. 
A—12 







BOOKS FOE TOUNG PEOPLE 


HILDEGARDE - MARGARET SERIES 

By Laura E. Richards 
Eleven Volumes 

The Hildegarde-Margaret Series, beginning with 
“ Queen Hildegarde ” and ending with “ The Merry- 
weathers,” make one of the best and most popular series 
of books for girls ever written. 

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 

per volume .$1.75 

The eleven volumes boxed as a set . •, • $19.25 

LIST OF TITLES 

QUEEN HILDEGARDE 

HILDEGARDE’S HOLIDAY 

HILDEGARDE’S HOME 

HILDEGARDE’S NEIGHBORS 

HILDEGARDE’S HARVEST 

THREE MARGARETS 

MARGARET MONTFORT 

PEGGY 

RITA 

FERNLEY HOUSE 
THE MERRYWEATHERS 

A—13 




THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


DELIGHTFUL BOOKS FOR LITTLE 

FOLKS 

By Laura E. Richards 

THREE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, with eight plates in full color 
and many text illustrations . . . . $1.75 

“ Little ones will understand and delight in the stories 

and poems.”— Indianapolis News. 

FIVE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.75 

A charming collection of short stories and clever 
poems for children. 

MORE FIVE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.75 

A noteworthy collection of short stories and poems 
for children, which will prove as popular with mothers 
as with boys and girls. 

FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.75 

The story of their lives and other wonderful things 
related by the Man in the Moon, done in the vernacular 
from the lunacular form by Laura E. Richards. 


A NEW BOOK FOR GIRLS 

By Laura E. Richards 

HONOR BRIGHT 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.75 

No girl ever deserved more to have a series of stories 
written about her than does HONOR BRIGHT, the new¬ 
est heroine of a talented author who has created many 
charming girls. Born of American parents who die 
in the far East, Honor spends her school days at the 
Pension Madeline in Vevev, Switzerland, surrounded by 
playmates of half a dozen nationalities. As are all of 
Mrs. Richards’ heroines, HONOR BRIGHT is the high¬ 
est type of the young girl of America, with all the in¬ 
dependence of character which is American to the core 
in young as in old. 

A—14 





'BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS 

Wi (Trade Mark) 

By Annie Fellows Johnston 
Each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume . $1.90 

THE LITTLE COLONEL STORIES 

(Trade Mark) 

Being three “ Little Colonel ” stories in the Cosy Corner 
Series, “ The Little Colonel,” “ Two Little Knights of 
Kentucky,” and “ The Giant Scissors,” in a single volume. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOUSE PARTY 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOLIDAYS 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HERO 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL AT BOARDING- 

(Trade Mark) 

SCHOOL 

THE LITTLE COLONEL IN ARIZONA 

(Trade Mark) __ 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S CHRISTMAS 

(Trade Mark) 

VACATION 

THE LITTLE COLONEL, MAID OF HONOR 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S KNIGHT COMES 

(Trade Mark) 

RIDING 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S CHUM, MARY 

WARE (Trade Mark) 

MARY WARE IN TEXAS 
MARY WARE’S PROMISED LAND 

These twelve volumes, boxed as a set, $22.80. 

A—15 



THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


THE ROAD OF THE LOVING HEART 

Cloth decorative, ‘with special designs and 

illustrations .$1.25 

In choosing her title, Mrs. Johnston had in mind 
“ The Road of the Loving Heart,” that famous high¬ 
way, built by the natives of Hawaii, from their settle¬ 
ment to the home of Robert Louis Stevenson, as a 
memorial of their love and respect for the man who 
lived and labored among them, and whose example of 
a loving heart has never been forgotten. This story of 
a little princess and her faithful pet bear, who finally 
do discover “ The Road of the Loving Heart,” is a mas¬ 
terpiece of sympathy and understanding and beautiful 
thought. 

THE JOHNSTON JEWEL SERIES 

Each small 16mo, cloth decorative, with frontis¬ 
piece and decorative text borders, per volume $0.75 

IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: The Legend 

of Camelback Mountain. 

THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy Tale for 
Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their 
Daughters. 

KEEPING TRYST: A Tale of King Arthur’s Time. 
THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART 
THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME: 

A Fairy Play for Old and Young. 

THE JESTER’S SWORD 


THE LITTLE COLONEL’S GOOD TIMES 
BOOK 

Uniform in size with the Little Colonel Series . $2.50 

Bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . . 5.00 

Cover design and decorations by Peter Verberg. 

“ A mighty attractive volume in which the owner may 
record the good times she has on decorated pages, and 
under the directions as it were of Annie Fellows John¬ 
ston.”— Buffalo Express. 

A—16 






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